


Stolen

by mr_ankles



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Derek can use words, Established Relationship, Everyone Is Alive, Fluff, Good Peter, Hurt Stiles, Kidnapping, M/M, Mates, Pack Cuddles, Pack Mother Stiles Stilinski, Sheriff knows about werewolves, Sorry about the summary, Torture, Who knew?, the sheriff's name is John
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-19
Updated: 2014-07-21
Packaged: 2018-01-19 22:57:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 14
Words: 22,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1487242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mr_ankles/pseuds/mr_ankles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The new threat to Beacon Hills is something the Pack has faced many times before, just never like this.</p><p>---</p><p>Or the one where Stiles is kidnapped by a different pack looking to expand their territory, and Derek is beyond pissed off.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first fic in this fandom, so just bear with me. This is just something that's been bouncing around my mind for a while.  
> Unbeta'd, all mistakes are my own.
> 
> Enjoy!

Stiles couldn't shake the feeling that he was being watched. He had just left the supermarket, where he had previously gotten several worried glances as people noticed the sheer amount of food he was purchasing. Feeding a pack of teenage werewolves was not as easy as it seemed. It was like feeding a small army.

He had just finished putting the last grocery bag in the trunk of his jeep when he first felt it. That strange feeling of someone’s eyes on him, his hair stood on end and he became increasingly fidgety. The conversation he had had with Derek and the Pack about the new scent they had been catching throughout town, and how they should be on the look out for anything different ran through his head. He turned his head frantically to try and find the person that was watching him. Finding nothing, his brow furrowed, he shrugged his shoulders and murmured to himself “Get it together Stilinski.”

Deciding it was probably his overactive imagination playing tricks on him, Stiles simply climbed into the front of his Jeep and headed to the Hale house.

After the whole she-bang with the Alpha Pack and crazy bitch Jennifer, Stiles had finally bugged Derek into rebuilding the Hale house. Instead of a burnt and broken shell of a once beautiful house, the Pack, as well as more than a few hired builders and electricians, had transformed the house back to its original beauty. With a total of eight bedrooms, 5 bathrooms, an enormous kitchen, dining room, and living room, it was more than apt to house a pack of wolves.

Most of the Pack still lived with their parents, this included Scott, Allison, Lydia, Jackson, Danny, and Stiles himself. While the rest, Isaac, Erica, and Boyd lived in the house with Derek, Cora, and Peter. The pack spent most of their time at the Hale house, from pack meeting, pack movie night, to just hanging out, it always took place in their new home.

When Stiles finally reached the driveway, he skipped his way into the house. He was greeted by a cheerful, “Mom’s home!” from who he assumed was Erica.

When he got to the kitchen he found Erica, Isaac, and Jackson munching on the last bag of chips, “Hey pups! I got groceries in the trunk of the Jeep, if you wanna eat you gotta go get ‘em yourself.” This earned a half-hearted groan from the teenagers in the room.

Once things had calmed down and the Pack actually had time to bond, Stiles as well as the rest of the Pack started to notice his maternal instincts and protectiveness. He was always the one that the pups went to talk to, if they were hurt or sick Stiles felt an urge to nurse them back to health.

When Derek and Stiles had finally got their heads out of their ass’ and got rid of the disgustingly present sexual tension it was official, and Stiles was deemed ‘Pack Mom’, making Derek ‘Pack Dad’. Stiles often found himself calling the wolves ‘pups’, cooking meals for them, breaking up fights, and just being there for them.

When the pups had finally left the room, Stiles started pulling out pots and pans in order to prepare for the obscene amount food he was about to cook for the pack. He was interrupted when he felt familiar hands gently wrap around his waist and a hot mouth against his neck. “Afternoon Sourwolf.” he chirps innocently.

Derek smirks, giving him a small peck to the cheek before saying quietly, “Missed you.”

“Derek I was gone for like an hour at most.” Stiles chuckled.

Derek shrugged nonchalantly, “Still missed you.” He moved Stiles’ chin to get better access to his mouth. Their lips touched tentatively before bringing their mouths together more forcefully, Stiles eagerly opened his mouth when he felt Derek’s hot tongue lick at the entrance. Stiles trailed his hands up Derek’s chest, gripping the back his neck, pulling him in closer. Needing to breath, Derek broke the kiss, trailing hot, wet kisses down Stiles’ neck. He stopped at the prominent mate bite on the junction between Stiles’ neck and shoulder. Derek lavished the mark with his tongue and Stiles shuddered.

They were startled out of their little make-out session by the sound of Jackson whining, “Eww, really Mom and Dad? The kitchen?” Both Derek and Stiles whipped their heads to find Erica, Isaac, and Jackson placing the grocery bags on the kitchen island.

Derek rolled his eyes, while Stiles felt a hot blush creep up his cheeks. “Hey you don’t see me yelling at you when you guys are suckin’ face with Lydia, Danny, and Boyd.” Stiles retorted.

Erica gave him a face, “Yeah, but its weird with you two. I don’t wanna see Mom and Dad makin’ out every time I come into the kitchen.” Isaac and Jackson gave a grunt in agreement.

“Ah, cry me a river,” Stiles muttered, patting Derek’s cheek sweetly and started to put the groceries away.

 

\---

 

Later, when the Pack had eaten their full at dinner and were all snuggled up with each other on the big couch in the living room, they found themselves arguing adamantly about what movie to watch.

“We are not watching The Notebook again Lydia.” Jackson growled, then whined slightly when he received a death glare from Lydia, Allison, Erica, and surprisingly Isaac.

“How ‘bout Lord of the Rings?” Stiles suggested. This earned him an unimpressed from most of the Pack, barring Scott, Cora, and Peter. “What? You can never go wrong with Lord of the Rings!”

Lydia rolled her eyes, “Yes, you can Stiles, “ she huffed.

Derek took a deep breath, “Would you guys just pick a movie?” he asked, obviously annoyed with their bickering.

He received many ‘Yes Dad’s’ in return, to which he just rolled his eyes and snuggled closer into Stiles side, burying his face into Stiles' neck and taking in the heavenly vanilla scent of his mate.

In the end, they had agreed on watching Avengers with minimal threats and bloodshed. Boyd being the mediator he is had suggested it, knowing no one could shoot down such a quality movie. So Stiles considered it a win. They had wisely purchased a couch that formed a square, kind of like a big bed surrounded by pillows and blankets, to accommodate pack cuddles and other nefarious activities. Thank God for Ikea.

Stiles was laying in the center of said pack cuddle, resting his head on Derek’s chest, while running his fingers through Isaac’s soft curls. Jackson and Lydia entangled by his feet. He thinks its Allison and Scott who are currently making out behind him, to the consternation of the rest of the Pack. Erica, Boyd, Cora, and even Peter were snuggled around the edges of their little cuddle-fest.

About half-way through the movie, Stiles could feel his eyes drooping, finding it increasingly harder to stay awake. The feeling of safety and warmth and home radiating from the Pack, was making it hard to keep his eyes open.

Sensing Stiles’ battle with awareness, Derek kissed his forehead and whispered, “It’s alright, you've had a busy day. You should get some rest.”

He smiled lazily, loving the fact that he didn’t even need to say anything for Derek to know exactly what he was thinking. He snuggled his head closer to Derek’s chest, breathing in his scent.

He fell into a peaceful sleep, surrounded by the people he loved most, blissfully unaware of the dangers that were awaiting him outside.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, I was really happy with the response I got with this so I banged out a new chapter! You can expect fairly frequent updates this week cause it's spring vacation, but once I go back to school they might slow down a little. I also apologize in advance for my attempt at smut...
> 
> Anyways, Enjoy!!

Stiles woke the next morning only to find everyone else was still sleeping like the dead. His hand was still splayed through Isaac’s thick curls, and he could feel soft rhythmic puffs of air against his head. He tilted his head up to see Derek, sleeping soundly, his lips parted slightly. He smiled to himself, reaching up to mouth at Derek’s chin in an attempt to wake him.

After a moment of consistently kissing his jaw line, Derek started to stir. Once he realized what exactly had woken him he smiled softly and leaned down to claim Stiles on the mouth. They made out lazily for a few moments before Derek’s hand started to wander down Stiles’ front, making his way down to the seam of his boxers.

Stiles hastily broke the kiss, “Not down here,” he panted, “Don’t wanna wake up the kiddies.” He winked and took Derek’s hand in his own, entwining their fingers as they both tried to extricate themselves from the sea of sleeping wolves.

Even with his supernatural grace, Derek still managed to step on at least three people’s hands and feet, earning him tired growls and semi-conscious threats. Stiles chuckled at the concentrated look on Derek’s face as they navigated their way out of the living room and up the stairs.

When they reached their room, one they had been sharing for quite some time now, Stiles kicked the door closed and let Derek push him against it. He grinned as he felt Derek sturdy hands grip his waist, he looked up only to find Derek’s ocean green eyes staring back at him.

“We got like a good forty-five minutes before the Pack starts to wake up,” he leaned in close and nibbled at Derek ear-lobe, earning him a pleased whine, “Let’s make it good.”

Derek’s eyes turned predatory and he let out an approving growl, and he thanked every god above for letting Stiles talk him into sound-proofing their rooms. He wasted no time in picking Stiles up and walking them towards the bed. When Stiles feels his back hit the soft sheets of the mattress, he gripped Derek’s face and pulled him into a deep kiss. He worked his hands under Derek’s shirt, stretching his thin fingers across Derek’s defined abs.

Answering his silent question, Derek stripped them of both of their shirts and pajama pants, leaving them both in only their boxers, their obvious bulges strained against the thin fabric. Their mouths fit as one, not unlike pieces of a puzzle. Their tongues danced together, licking and sucking desperately. Derek pulled away, only to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses down Stiles’ chest.

Over the period of time he had spent running around with a pack of werewolves, he had finally filled out some. He was no longer the spastic, skinny teenager that most recognized him as, he had gained a lot of muscle trying his best to keep up with the Pack, and was now rocking his own defined abs. Of course he was still as spastic as he had always been, but some things just can't be helped.

Stiles was pulled from his thoughts when he felt Derek’s hot breath ghost over the bulge of his boxers. He shuddered slightly, and pushed his hips up in invitation. Derek quickly obliged, carefully pulling down Stiles’ boxers, releasing his half-hard cock. Derek gently stroking him to his full hardness, “What do you want?” he asked, his voice husky and borderline animal.

Stiles’ gave him a forceful kiss to the mouth, biting his lower lip as he pulled away, “I want you inside me.” he whispered, voice hoarse.

Needing no more encouragement, Derek stripped them of the last of their clothing. “How do you want it baby?” he asked darkly.

Stiles shuddered at his tone, “I wanna see you.” Derek hastily opened the bedside table and grabbed the bottle of lube they kept their. Stiles heard the tell-tale sound of the cap popping as Derek slicked his fingers.

He gingerly kissed Stiles’ swollen lips as he trailed his wet fingers down his side, halting when he reached his hole and immediately working in one of his thick fingers.

He made quick, but thorough work in preparing Stiles, curling and scissoring his thick fingers, making sure to hit all of the right spot, the ones that made Stiles gasp and moan underneath him. Derek loved seeing him liked this, so malleable and breathtaking, he loved knowing that this pleasure was caused by him.

After a few more moments Stiles was becoming increasingly desperate, “Fuck, Derek I’m ready.” he gasped brokenly. When Derek pulled his fingers away, Stiles groaned at the loss, canting his hips up, unconsciously trying to get some sort of contact.

Given the invitation, Derek wastes no time in lining up his thick cock with Stiles’ eager hole, and slowly pushing in. He gives Stiles time to adjust to the feeling of him, before he starts to thrust, slow and shallow.

After a few moment of this consistent pace, Stiles is panting below him, pushing himself down on Derek’s cock. “Please Derek,” he whines breathlessly, “Faster.”

Derek grunts in affirmation, he begins pistoning his hips in harsh, fast thrusts, making sure he brushes over Stiles’ prostate with every stroke. Having done this more than a few times before, they knew exactly what each of them liked. Stiles knew that Derek loved when he rocked back on him a certain way and bossed him around, showing that he too had some dominance, and Derek knew that Stiles loved when he jerked him off during sex, but loved coming untouched even more.

And that was exactly what Derek was striving for, not allowing Stiles or himself to touch Stiles’ long, slender cock. Stiles was coming more and more undone with each thrust, Derek not far behind him. He was panting and moaning almost whorishly when Derek’s cock brushed his prostate.

It only took a few more moments before they both felt that familiar heat building up in their stomach’s. Stiles was the first to go, shouting Derek’s name, shooting his release across their chests. The combination of Stiles’ clenching hole around his cock and the blissful pleasure painted across his face was more than enough to push Derek over the edge, moaning Stiles’ name and releasing deep into Stiles’ willing body.

Derek pulled out of Stiles, taking a few tissues from the bedside table and cleaning them as best he could. He collapsed beside his mate, curling his arms around his waist and burying his face into his lovers neck, inhaling the sweet salty scent.

They took a minute to catch their breaths and bask in the after-glow of sex. Stiles tilted his head to look into Derek’s eyes, a blissful smirk splayed across his features, “Love you Sourwolf.” he whispered lazily.

Derek smiled in return, giving him a small peck to the nose, “Love you too.”

 

\---

 

After spending a little longer than necessary in the shower, Stiles and Derek joined the rest of the pack down in the kitchen to help with breakfast. Or lunch if you considered the time, whatever.

When they walked in, the whole pack gave them knowing looks, Erica went so far as to wink. Stiles couldn’t help but blush, living in a house full of sensory enhanced werewolves you can never get away with anything.

When Stiles saw Scott attempting to start making scrambled eggs he shouted, “No Scott, step away from the cooking utensils. We don’t need another incident.”

The rest of the pack snickered, Scott just looked adorably confused, “What? I can cook!”

Allison patted him gently on the cheek, “No sweetie, you really can’t.” Stiles laughed outright at the look of embarrassment that crossed his best friends face.

Just because he managed to avoid one kitchen catastrophe with Scott doesn’t mean he was successful in keeping everyone else in line. Erica ended up started a small flour war with Peter, Jackson, and Isaac. In the end everyone was caught in the crossfire and had the white powder end up on some part of their party. Everyone laughed at the look on Derek’s face when he tried to go cross-eyed to see the flour thrown on his nose.

Moments like these were when Stiles was reminded just how much he loved his little family of misfits.

Once everyone had eaten and was showered and dressed, Stiles decided it was probably a good time to go back home and see his dad. While Stiles did spend a lot of his time at the Hale house with the pack, he still loved seeing his dad and spending time with him.

“Alright puppies,” he announced to the lounging wolves on the couch, “Mama’s gonna head home, I should be back later.”

The pack was immediately on their feet to bid Stiles goodbye, scent marking him on the way out, hugging him and burying their faces in his neck. Derek gave him a full kiss on the mouth, whispering goodbye, as he made his way to the Jeep.

The ride home was quick and familiar, having taken it many times before. He reached home in a few minutes, seeing his dad’s cruiser was not in the driveway, he assumed he was running a few minutes late from his shift.

Taking the stair two at a time, he stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the door. Instead of its usual smooth wood, there were deep claw marks gouged deep into the wood.

Before he even realized it, he had his phone out and was calling Derek. He picked up on the third ring, “Hey baby, what’s up?”

He didn’t waste time in small talk, “Derek I think we have a problem.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thrive on comments


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been really happy with the response this is getting! I haven't totally worked out where this is gonna go, but if anyone has a suggestion I'm all ears. More to come soon :)
> 
> Enjoy!

Derek looked at the defiled door in front of him, getting more and more angry the longer he stared at it. They had gone to his mate’s house, they had defiled his mate’s home, and all under his nose.

There was nothing particularly special about the mark itself, just deep claw marks gouged into the wood. As if someone or something had just swiped their claws against it and left. But it still made Derek angry. And scared. They may not have done anything openly violent, but this was a warning.

He was supposed to keep things like this from happening, he was supposed to protect the pack, keep them safe, keep him safe. How could he not notice something like this? It’s not like he doesn’t spend practically every minute of his day looking out for the pack. Things had been relatively quiet for the past few months, the pack was finishing their senior year, and apart from a run in with some angry fairies and a few rogue omegas, everything had been going swimmingly.

The mark left in Stiles’ door was obviously from another werewolf, or a pack of them. I mean who else runs around clawing people’s doors for no apparent reason. The Alpha Pack had something similar to announce their arrival, and Derek had a feeling this was meant to do the same thing.

The most frustrating thing about it though, was the fact he couldn’t smell them. He should be able to pick up on the scent of other wolves, he should’ve sensed their presence the moment they stepped into his territory. But he can’t. And he doesn’t understand how this could be possible. They just waltzed into his territory, essentially threatened his mate, and no one even noticed.  

Well, there was that strange scent he had picked up on a few days ago. But it was barely there, and smelled nothing of wolf. It smelled faintly of magic.

His brows furrowed as he sunk deeper into his thoughts, so maybe they had some sort of mage or witch with them. That would explain the scenting issue, they could easily mask the scent they didn’t want to leave. But why would they need to be so secretive? Why couldn’t they just confront him?

What exactly were they doing here, he had no clue, but it made him anxious. Being nervous in his own territory is something that should never happen. It was his to control, his to protect, and if he couldn’t even do that what kind of alpha was he?

But what scared him the most is not knowing: not knowing why they had targeted his mate, not knowing what they were doing here and not knowing how to protect his pack.

He was broken out of trance by the feeling of someone’s hands gently cupping his cheeks. He soon realized it was Stiles’, and he felt some of the tension seep away, just from the knowledge of his mate being near, being safe.

It took him a moment to fully break away from his thoughts and realize Stiles was talking to him, “Derek did you hear any of what I just said?” he asked, concern washing over his features.

“Uh, no sorry,” Derek took a deep breath before continuing, “Just thinking.”

Stiles’ eyes narrowed, and as if he knew exactly what Derek was thinking he said, “Hey, we’ll figure this out okay? I mean we always do, everything we’ve come up against we’ve beaten, right? And we haven’t lost anyone, well we’ve come close but ya know we’ve pulled through!” he stopped himself before he could dig himself into a deeper grave, he sighed defeatedly before he continued, “I know you hate not knowing, but why should this be any different?”

Derek gave him a long look, before pulling him close and softly kissing his forehead, “You’re right,” he said after a moment of comforting silence, “We’ll figure this out.” He said the last part mostly to himself, in an attempt at convincing himself he actually had some sort of control over the situation.

Only Derek had come over when Stiles first called, so they figured it was probably best if they called the rest of the pack over for a meeting. The Pack arrived in shifts, first Allison and Scott, who happened to be the closest, followed by Jackson, Lydia, Isaac, Danny, and Cora, and finally Erica, Boyd, and Peter.

Derek took a moment to appreciate just how much his pack had grown over the years. After years of being by himself, he had suddenly gained a new family, one he could love almost as much as the one he had lost. He loved his new family with everything he had, but it would never be the same for what he felt for his family before the fire.

“So I assume this little emergency meeting has something to do with the fact there are claw marks on Stiles’ front door?” Danny, who was currently situated on Isaac’s lap, questioned, breaking the silence. Derek liked having Danny apart of the pack, he was intelligent, and clever, and more than capable with handling anything computer related. He would always be a great addition to the Pack.

“Danny’s right,” Derek spoke out, “Now I’m not exactly sure who or what did it, but I’m assuming it was another pack. Marking Stiles’ door like that is not uncommon for packs showing their presence in a new territory.”

The group looked uneasy, “But how come we haven’t been able to smell them? Or sense them for that matter?” Boyd said after a moment.

“That’s just it, I don’t know. We should be able to, but we can’t,” Derek sighed before continuing, “Somehow they’ve managed to mask their presence, it’s possible they have a witch or mage with them. Why they would go to all that trouble and still announce themselves by marking Stiles’ door, I have no idea. Has anyone noticed anything out of the ordinary?”

Stiles was the one to speak up, “I’m not sure if this is connected to our situation, but I feel like I’ve been being watched. ‘Ya know that prickly feeling on the back your neck? It’s been happening for a couple days, but whenever I look around no one is there. You guys said you smelled something weird right?”

“Yeah, but it didn’t smell like wolf,” Erica said, “And it was barely even there. It wasn’t old, it just was really hard to pick up on.”

“It smelled of magic,” Derek continued on from Erica, “That corroborates with there being a witch or mage here.”

The Pack was silent for a moment, each of them trying to think of a plausible reason for what was going on.

“What do you think their doing here? I mean, if they were just passing through they would’ve done so already.” Scott pondered aloud.

Derek shook his head defeatedly, “I don’t know Scott. But until we know more I want everyone to stay with a partner.”

The Pack all nodded in agreement, and Stiles’ spoke up, “Alright so partners, Me and Derek, obviously. Scott and Allison, Jackson and Lydia, Erica and Boyd, Danny and Isaac, and finally Peter and Cora,” Stiles chuckled, “Hey it’s good thing there’s an even amount of you or else this would be a mess. Anyways, if your partner is unavailable, just join up with another group. Just don’t go anywhere alone, we don’t know what they are doing here or what they want, so until we do we need to be cautious.”

Derek wraps an arm around his waist, pulling him close, loving the fact that Stiles beat him to the punch. Even before they were officially mated, Stiles had always known what Derek was thinking or what he was planning. Derek felt like a huge weight was lifted off of his shoulders, knowing that he wasn’t leading his Pack alone.

With not much more to say, Derek sent the Pack home, reminding them to stay with their partners as they headed out. Once they had all left Derek and Stiles collapsed on the couch in the living room, not even bothering to turn on the TV, just laying together in comforting silence. Derek pulled Stiles as close as he could, slinging a strong arm over his hip. Stiles’ body was turned toward him, head resting against his chest.

No matter how safe he felt at that moment, Derek couldn’t stop his mind from running. What if they didn’t pull through this time? What if someone got hurt, or worse? It would be his fault, and he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to handle much more loss than he already has.

He must’ve been making a face because Stiles was suddenly gripping his bicep, in an attempt to pull him from his thoughts. “Derek I know what you’re thinking, and I’ve already told you we’ll figure this out.” He said softly.

“I know, but that doesn’t stop me from being afraid of what might happen.”

Stiles leaned up to kiss his chin, “I know Derek, I’m scared too. But who wouldn’t be? I can’t promise you everything will be alright, but I can sure as hell try.” He gave Derek a mischievous smirk before snuggling back into Derek’s chest. Derek rested his chin against Stiles’ head and closed his eyes, letting himself be lulled to sleep by the feeling of his mate’s rhythmic breathing.

Derek wasn’t sure how long they’d been asleep for until he was awoken by the sound of the door being opened. He was immediately alert, his shifting causing Stiles to be roused from sleep. Derek calmed slightly when he was hit with the familiar scent of the Sheriff.

The Sheriff walked cautiously into the living room, only raising an eyebrow when he took in the sight of his bleary eyed son extracting himself from Derek’s firm hold.

“Anyone wanna explain why there are claw marks on my front door?”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are much appreciated!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> new chapter!! This is where the stuff I promised in the summary actually starts to happen.
> 
> Enjoy!

“Alright, so we’re up against something again?” John said as Derek and Stiles told him what they had gathered. “You don’t know what, but you’re thinkin’ it’s another pack? You don’t know why or what they’re doing here, and they have seemingly been able to mask their scent from the others. Am I getting everything so far?

Stiles chuckled softly at his father’s forwardness, “Yeah, yeah looks like you got it.”

Stiles remembered the when they had first told his dad that werewolves were real. He had looked as if he was seriously considering putting Stiles in a mental home before he saw Derek shift right in front of him. Stiles had never seen a persons jaw come so close to actually hitting the ground.

It had taken a while for him to fully accept that supernatural creatures were an actual thing, but he eventually came around. He and Stiles had gone back to their father-son relationship, no more secrets, no more tension, no more worries.

Since then the Sheriff had been a huge help with the Pack. Whenever they needed anything law enforcement related, John was their man. With his help they had been able to solve a lot of their typical supernatural mysteries.

“Just be careful okay? Until we know what’s actually going on please don’t pursue anything you don’t have to.” The ‘please don’t get hurt’ went unsaid from Stiles’ plea, but it was nonetheless heard by his father.

“Alright, well I had a long shift, I’m gonna go to sleep.” He made his way out of the living room, kissing both Stiles and Derek on the forehead before heading up the stairs.

 

\---

 

It had been a week since the mysterious pack had made its presence known. They had yet to do anything more than what they had done to Stiles’ door. And Stiles had stopped feeling like he had been watched with Derek constantly by his side. The rest of the Pack had also reported no funny business on their end as well.

Everything was eerily peaceful, like the calm before the storm, and it scared the hell out of Stiles. It was like they were just waiting for something to happen, they never knew what or when it would happen, but everyone was on edge.

It was the friday night after the whole claw marks on the door event, Derek and Stiles were snuggled together in Stiles’ bed, lazily making out in the lue of sleeplessness. As Stiles’ hands started to travel down to the seam of Derek’s boxers, they were so rudely interrupted by the sound of Derek’s phone ringing.

Stiles groaned when Derek pulled away to reach for the phone. “It could be something important, remember the whole mysterious pack thing that’s happening?” Derek defended as he answered the phone. Stiles just huffed indignantly, earning him a slightly amused face from Derek.

“Hey Scott what’s up?” Derek said, all business now. He listened intently to the voice on the other line, Stiles unable to hear it strained to listen, leaning closer to Derek’s ear. He only caught a few phrases like ‘woods’ and ‘weird scent’ and ‘check it out’. Derek only responded in non-descriptive grunts and clipped phrases, which did nothing to help Stiles’ figure out what the conversation was about.

Once Derek hung up, he was up and out of the bed in second’s searching for some suitable clothes, “What was that all about?” Stiles asked.

“Scott called, said they picked up on the weird scent again, but its stronger this time. I’m gonna meet up with him and Allison and see what’s going on. I’m sending Erica over to stay with you while I’m gone.” He silenced Stiles’ protests before they could even start, kissing him sweetly, “It’s probably nothing, but if it isn’t I don’t want you getting hurt. Can you just stay here? For me?”

Dammit Derek really knew how to get to Stiles, his shoulders slumped defeatedly, “Fine” he huffed, “Just be careful okay? Don’t know what I’d do without my Sourwolf.”

Derek chuckled, giving a peck to Stiles’ nose before heading out of the room and down the stairs, passing Erica on the stairs. The Pack had stopped using the window a while ago, and to be honest he kind of missed it.

“Hey Batman!” Erica called cheerfully when she reached Stiles’ room, “Ready for a little movie marathon while our dear Alpha is away?”

Stiles smiled widely, “Course, come on Catwoman,” he patted the space in the bed next to him while reaching over for his laptop, “What do you wanna watch?”

After a few minutes of childish bickering, they both decided to watch Jumper. Erica had snuggled into his side, resting her head against his bicep as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, legs tangled and just generally comfortable they settled into the movie.

Since he had accepted his role as Pack Mom, Stiles had started to notice the pups’ crave for touch. They loved it when Stiles cuddled with them or just showed them affection by physical touch. Hell, even Boyd got that pleased look when Stiles hugged him, and Boyd rarely showed emotion so that’s a feat within itself.

They were about half-way through the movie, ya know when Hayden Christensen and his little girlfriend sneak into the Colosseum in Rome, when he felt Erica suddenly tense beside him. She was on her feet in seconds, frantically scrunching up her nose, sniffing almost comically.

“Erica what is it?” He questioned cautiously as he watched Erica sprint toward the front door. “Erica what’s going on?” he chased after her as best he could on human legs, he halted at the front door where she was peering out into the night.

“I smelt something, wolves, not pack.” She said simply, looking outside as if expecting something to pop out. And not seconds later, three figure emerged, two of them obviously werewolves considering their exposed claws and fangs and feral growls that left their mouths. It was two men, heavily built, wearing leather jackets (what is it with werewolves and leather?) and they were steadily making their way toward him and Erica. The third was a woman, and was most certainly not a wolf, Stiles thought it be the witch Derek suspected they possessed because of her unnatural glowing green eyes and warped and gnarled wooden staff she carried along side her.

Stiles heard Erica growl protectively beside him. At that moment she surged forward to meet the two wolves. Erica was fast, able to get in a few hits on her assailants, but she was overpowered and outnumbered. Stiles ran back inside to grab his trusty baseball bat in an attempt to help Erica. As he did he quickly dialed Derek on speed-dial, luckily he picked up on the third ring, “Hey babe.” he said nonchalantly.

“Derek get to my house now, they've finally shown themselves.” Stiles didn’t wait for Derek to respond, he hung up and went to assist Erica. She had managed to put one of the wolves temporarily out of commission with a broken leg. The other had her by the throat, hoisting her in the air, she growled and kicked him squarely in the chest. She barely managed to squirm her way out his hold before he was on her again. Stiles came up from behind the unsuspecting wolf and swung the bat against his head, causing him to fall to the ground unconscious. He helped Erica to her feet, wary of the fastly healing wolves making their way to their feet.

In the midst of action, they had both completely forgotten the women that had arrived with the wolves, which was admittedly kind of stupid on their part. Stiles, along with Erica, was knocked back by a sudden force, landing flat on his back. He tried to get back up but was unable to move, it was like the frickin kanima all over again. No matter how hard he tried he couldn't move an inch, he couldn't even move his head to see what was happening around him. Out of the corner his eye he saw Erica in the same predicament as him, yet she was growling viciously at the witch above her.

    "Leave her alone bitch." He heard himself say. The woman raised her gaze to land upon him and she grinned wickedly.

    "Leave the she-wolf, the Alphas mate will do just fine. The spell on them will wear off soon enough, we should get moving." Her voice was surprising low and gravelly, she sounded like she smoked a pack of cigarettes a day. His confusion at her words were soon stopped when he felt two strong arms grips him, lifting him until he was hung over the man's shoulders.

    "Hey man what the hell. Let me the fuck down." His protests were all he had since he was still unable to move, they weren't much but at least he was trying. Erica wasn't fanning much better he could hear her shouting countless profanities and threats as he was carried away.

     His protests only grew louder as he was carried further away from Erica, to the a waiting car down the street. "Teresa would you make this idiot shut the fuck up?" One of his captors asked angrily. The women, Teresa he assumed, rolled her eyes and pressed her palm to his forehead, mumbling something he couldn't quite make out. He suddenly felt very dizzy and saw black spots creep into his vision, his protest died on his lips. The last thing he remembers is being hefted into the back of the waiting car before being enveloped in black.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to all who have left kudos, comments, bookmarks, etc. you guys are great!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since I'm back in school now the updates are going to start slowing down. I'll update when I can, it shouldn't be too long of a wait. I know I don't explain it in this chapter, but it will be explained why this pack is in BH in the next chapter.
> 
> Enjoy!

Derek was _livid_. He was pacing in short, punctual strides across Stiles’ living room, trying his hardest not to lose his control. The Pack dared not look him in the eye as he paced back and forth. His anger hid the feeling of utter emptiness not knowing where his mate was or if he was okay. He had been gone for less than two hours, and the other pack had managed to injure one of his pack and abduct his mate. Derek wasn’t so much angry with the Pack, but at himself, he was supposed to protect his Pack from threats like this. And he had failed them.

When he had received the call from Stiles, he had run as fast as he could back to Stiles’ house, leaving Scott and Allison to meet him at the house. His heart had fallen to his stomach when he reached Stiles’ front lawn, only to find Erica unmoving, and Stiles no where in sight. There was one terrifying moment where he thought Erica was dead due to her lack of movement, but the strong beat of her heart had been enough to calm him slightly.

When he reached her side she had sighed in relief before hastily telling him that the other pack had taken Stiles, and that a witch had cast a spell to imobolize both her and Stiles. That sent his heart back into his stomach. He could still smell the lingering scent of foreign wolves, and the acidic smell of magic burning through the air. He carefully lifted Erica, carried her inside the house and placed her on the couch. He had then made sure to call the rest of the pack over.

Erica was currently situated in Boyd’s lap, who was running his thick fingers through her hair in an attempt to calm her. The spell the witch had placed on Erica had gradually wore off, until she was allowed to move stiffly, but somewhat freely. He had made Erica repeat the story at least three times, how she had been able to smell the wolves, how they had fought them until the witch had put them out of commission. She had teared up when she described how she had watched them carry Stiles away, how the only thing she could do was listen to his protests as she delivered threats of her own.

The knowledge that Stiles had been taken from them had hit them hard. In some ways Stiles was the most important part of the pack, he may not be the strongest or fastest, but he was intelligent and caring. One could say he was the glue that kept them together.

After a moment of trying to keep himself together Derek finally spoke, “We’re going to find him. I don’t care what it takes, but we’re going to find him.” The rest of the Pack nodded solemnly. Derek was silent for a moment as he gathered a plan of action, “Alright, Scott: I want you to go tell the Sheriff, he’ll want to know and he might be able to help. Jackson, Isaac, Peter and Cora: I want you out there tracking his scent, if it leads somewhere promising, call me. Danny and Lydia: I want you researching, see if you put a name to this pack, track Stiles’ cell phone. Allison: I want you to talk to your dad, see if he can be any help. Boyd: I want you looking after Erica until she’s 100% then you guys can join a group and help out. I’ll be shifting from group to group doing what I can to help.”

Derek took a deep breath to collect himself, “If any of you find something that will even remotely lead us to him, call me. We’ll get him back.”

And with that the pack was off to their assigned duties. Derek took a moment to steel himself, allowing himself to bury his head in his hands and let out a shaky breath. He felt tears prick his eyes as he thought about what his mate must be going through right now. He didn’t even want to think about his mate being hurt, it made him physically sick.

He was going to find Stiles and bring him back alive, or die trying.

 

\---

  


Stiles woke slowly, his mind felt foggy and his limbs felt as if they were made of lead. He shook his head weakly, attempting to clear the fog from his mind. When he tried to move his stiff limbs, he found his wrists and ankles bound to a rickety chair that was bolted to the ground by thick ropes.

He groaned as he recalled what had happened not too long ago, he couldn't tell if it was the same night or the next day because there were no windows to indicate so. The room was relatively big, bare of anything except for himself, surrounded by concrete walls, musty and old. He assumed he was in some kind of basement as he noticed a set of stairs in the corner leading up to an old wooden door.

He pulled against his restraints, testing their hold. The rope dug into his skin causing him to hiss in pain as he drew blood and he slumped in defeat. He looked around the room to see if there anything he could use to somehow help him escape. The room was uncomfortably bare, leaving him to just sit there and contemplate his fate.

His thoughts were interrupted by the squeal of the old door opening. And in walked a man he had not seen before, he had a strong build, his hair was greasy and pulled back into a tight pony-tail. Upon closer inspection, he didn't look particularly intimidating or scary, he just looked like a normal guy you’d pass in the street.

“Ah, I see our little friend has finally awoken.” His voice was deep and gravelly, with an air of smugness. “My name is Lyall.”

“Stiles, but I’m assuming you already knew that.” He drawled, this guy thought he was being so original. “So this has been real nice and all. The whole kidnapping thing, but I've got places to be, people to see.” Stiles knew he was screwed, but it was in his nature to try anything he could to get out of situations like these using his charm and wit. Now that he was thinking about it, he was put in life threatening situations far more than any teenager should be.

The man’s face contorted into a grin, “Nice try kid.” He pulled a small box from

his side that Stiles hadn't noticed before. “We’re gonna send a little present to your Alpha.”

“Derek’s gonna rip your throat out.” Stiles assured him, knowing his mate was probably looking for him right now.

Stiles’ face fell as Lyall ignored him and pulled a pair of pliers and a hunting knife from his pockets. Despite knowing there was no way out, he struggled against the ropes that bound him to the chair. In spite of himself, he put his brave face on, he wouldn't let this guy get to him, “Hey whoa, hold up man. Why don’t we talk about this huh? We’ll talk about our feelings and then you can let me outta the chair, and we can sing Kumbaya.”

That outburst earned him a backhand to the face, the man growled loudly, eyes flashing. “You’re extremely annoying you know that?”

“Trust me I know. I tend to think it’s one of my better qualities.” Stiles gave him a shit-eating grin.

The man only growled again, roughly grabbing his right hand. Stiles’ attempts at pulling

away proved futile due to the ropes. His eyes widened as he realized what Lyall was about to do, he struggled as the pliers came closer and closer to his fingertips.

He bit his lip hard enough to draw blood, not allowing himself to scream as one by one his fingernails were pried off. That did nothing to stop the pain though, he bit back a whimper when the seventh nail was yanked off. He watched as Lyall took his time, pulling each one off slowly and deliberately, then placing them in the box he had brought down with him.

By the time he was done, he could taste blood in his mouth from biting his lip, and his fingers throbbed and stung. He took a moment to gather himself, when he looked up he was met with the smug face of Lyall.

“Who peed in your cheerios? What the hell was that for?” He demanded angrily. He was aware he was in no position to be making demands, but he honestly couldn’t care less at the moment.

Lyall chuckled darkly, “That was mostly for fun. I’m thinking I’ll send your Alpha a little gift. You’ll learn more soon enough.”

Stiles was somewhat relieved when Lyall turned to leave, that relief was short lived when he turned back around. “Oh and before I go, hold this for me.” Lyall then drove the hunting knife bone-deep into Stiles’ thigh.

The onslaught of unexpected pain caused Stiles to scream out, breathing heavily as he tried to calm himself from his bloody fingertips and thigh. Lyall chuckled as he walked up the stairs, slamming the door shut behind him.

Stiles grit his teeth as he tried to distract himself from the pain radiating throughout him, particularly his leg. Despite the pain he found himself chuckling, “Fuck that guy is so cliché.”

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, so sorry for the late update. My teachers decided to give me butt-load of work the first week back, which was a joy. Next update shouldn't be too long a wait, within the week I think. But no promises. 
> 
> Enjoy!

After over four hours of searching, they had yet to find anything that had even remotely led to Stiles’ location. The stupid witch must’ve messed with his scent because it led to at least six different locations, none of them containing Stiles. Danny had been unsuccessful in tracking his phone, saying they must have disabled the GPS or smashed it and thrown it somewhere. Allison’s dad had been more than willing to help in the search, calling other hunters for potentially useful information.

The Sheriff was a different story, at first he was shocked and obviously scared for his son. It took him a moment to gather himself enough to put his Sheriff face on. He had done all he could to help find his son, but they ended up no closer than they were when they started.

The Pack, as well as the Sheriff and Chris Argent, sat in the Stilinski home living room, contemplating their next move. They had all nearly reached their last strands of patience, and were now scrambling onto anything that could lead them to Stiles. They had been reduced to running around like headless chickens, not knowing what would lead to anything even remotely helpful. They were just looking for _something_.

Danny had just gotten to explaining how he could neither track Stiles’ phone, or find any suspicious movement on the cameras he hacked into, when they heard a knock on the door. The werewolves, more than the other humans, were shocked because they had neither heard anyone approaching nor smelled anything. That couldn’t have been a coincidence. Derek sprinted to the door in hopes of catching whoever it was that knocked. He swung the door open only to be greeted by… nothing. There was no one there. He scrunched his eyebrows together in confusion, looking around to see if he could find anyone.

When he found nothing, he turned back to the pack. They had all gathered behind him in the small hallway, also hearing the knock and being just as perplexed by the lack of sound and smell. They weren’t looking at him though, they were looking at his feet. Derek gave them a confused look before turning to follow their eyes. There on the landing was a small wooden box, topped with a light blue bow.

That’s when he smelled it. The smell of blood, and pain, and anger, and _Stiles_. Derek hated knowing those smells belonged to his Stiles. He felt bile rise in his throat when he reached down to pick up the box. The smell only grew stronger as he pulled the box closer, he turned to the rest of the Pack who were all watching the box wearily, he knew the werewolves could smell it too.

Derek took a deep breath before lifting the lid of the box with shaky fingers. The lid seemed heavier than it should be, but that thought was thrown out the window when he got a peak of what laid inside. He barely registered the sound of the Pack screaming at him to let them see inside the box.

Seeing all ten of his mate’s bloody fingernails inside the box had done something to him. He felt the sudden urge to throw up, cry, and howl in anger all at once. A sense of dread washed over him, his mate had been, and possibly still is being tortured, and he’s helpless to do anything about it.

“What’s in the damn box Derek?” Sheriff shouted, breaking him out of his reverie.

“Sheriff I don’t think you really wanna see this.” He responded cautiously after a moment of silence. The rest werewolves in their company whined brokenly, smelling Stiles’ blood and sensing their Alphas distraught and anger.

“Hale I don’t really care what you think is best for me at the moment. I want to see what’s in the box.” He had pulled out his Sheriff voice, which to be honest could even make Derek cower at times.

With shaky hands he handed the small box over to John. The Pack crowded around him to see what was inside. When they finally saw what was inside, John looked like he was trying to hold back tears, Erica, Isaac, Scott, Allison, and Lydia were openly crying, while the rest of their company was seething. Peter was digging his claws in the palm of his hands as he tried to regain control of himself.

After the whole going crazy, killing Laura, becoming Alpha, dying and then being resurrected thing, Peter and Stiles had become close. They shared the same type of humor and sarcasm, and Stiles was surprisingly the only one that would even go near Peter in the time he was somewhat ostracized from the Pack. Stiles being taken and tortured had hit him as hard as the rest of them.

Once they tried and failed to get over the fact that Stiles’ fingernails were laying in a box rather than on his person, Derek finally had time to notice what made the lid of the box so heavy. It was Jackson who pointed it out, who saw the pre-paid phone and sticky note attached to the lid.

The note read: _Why don’t we have a nice little video-chat? Should be fu_ n.

Derek’s anger had risen to its peak. They had taken his mate from him, they had quite obviously tortured him, and now they were mocking Derek for the fun of it. And Derek doesn’t even know what they want, or if this is just some sick, twisted game.

When he read the note aloud, it earned him several feral growls along with a few broken whimpers. “You should call it!” Isaac piped up quickly.

“Why?” Derek asked brokenly.

“We might be able to track the call, or see where he is.” Danny added, holding Isaac close by the waist. The others nodded quickly, encouraging him to call the number that was already programmed into the phone, waiting to video chat.

He took a deep breath, it wasn’t that he didn’t want to help find Stiles by calling the number, it was that if he saw Stiles broken and bloody he doesn’t know if he’d be able to keep it together. But at the same time he needs to see him, he needs to know that he’s alive.

Before he even realized it, the phone was in his hand and ringing. It was a two-way call, so whoever picked up would be able to see his face in the camera, and Derek, their’s. And it just kept ringing. For a moment he was afraid no one would answer, until suddenly he was met with the image of a man. His dark hair was pulled into a greasy ponytail and from what Derek could see he was built like a bodybuilder.

“Ah, what took you so long? My friend and I here were starting to worry!” He chirped gleefully.

“Where’s Stiles?” Were the first words out of his mouth. The Pack was gathered around his, trying their best to get a look at the screen. Meanwhile, Danny was a few feet away typing hastily as he tried to track the signal from the phone.

“Oh, my little friend? He’s right here,” The man turned the camera to where a very bloody and tired looking Stiles was tied to a chair.

“Man we are so far from friends it’s not even funny.” He heard Stiles say bluntly. Derek  would’ve laughed at his outburst if he hadn’t been so broken at the sight of his mate beat up and tied to a chair.

The quality of the image wasn’t the best, but Derek could clearly make out Stiles’ bloody fingers as well as the knife plunged into his thigh. He almost whined at the sight of it, but had to control himself, he wouldn’t show weakness to this man.

“He’s fun to play with, annoying little shit he is, but all the better when making him squeal.” The man mused, sounding like he was talking more to himself than the audience on the other end.

“What the hell do you want?” Derek growled.

This got him a chuckle from the other man, “Oh my dear Alpha I want a lot of things. My name is Lyall, my pack and I have been observing you lot for quite a while. Real cute bunch you got here, think they can go up against a pack twice their size?”

“What. Do you. Want” Derek repeated, the man, or Lyall, had obviously been stalling.

“Like I said, I want a lot of things. I think it’s quite obvious I want to kill you, if you didn’t pick up on that yet. I want your land, I want your pack, and I want your mate. Looks like I already got one of those items checked off huh?” Lyall said smugly, trailing a clawed finger down the side of Stiles’ face. Stiles went to try and bite his finger in retaliation, but this only resulted in Lyall slashing his cheek. Derek felt swell of pride as he watched his mate be him stubbornly stand up to the man that had taken him.

“Think about it Derek. If I was the one to finally defeat the last of the great Hale legacy. Take everything that was his right from under his feet, before finally slaughtering him in front of his stolen pack? Every other pack would be kneeling at my feet!” Lyall giggled like a kid in a candy-shop.

“Dude you are one sick puppy.” Stiles whistled, earning him a forceful punch to the gut. He coughed trying to regain his breath, “Ok, ouch. Ya know you don’t have to hit me every time I open my mouth,” he received yet another blow to the stomach, “Ok maybe you do.” he wheezed.

“There’s no way in hell that’s happening,” Derek growled, “You’ll have to go through me before you harm anyone of my Pack. And I’m going to find my mate, and when I do, I’m going to rip your throat out with my teeth.”

“I’d like to see you try Alpha,” Lyall gripped the hilt of the knife that was lodged in Stiles’ thigh, and twisted slowly. Stiles’ breathing became labored and his face contorted in pain as he bit back his screams. “Well this has been fun, really it has. But I think I’m gonna have some time to myself to play with this precious thing. ”

Before Derek could even register what happened, the call ended. The image of Stiles was ripped away from him, and he was left once again wondering where his mate was. Derek heard the phone’s plastic creak and crack under the weight of his grip as he tried to control his anger. He turned to the rest of the Pack, many had tears streaming down their faces, others were clearly trying to contain their anger.

He turned to Danny, not trusting his voice at the moment, he silently asked if Danny had had any luck tracking the call.

Derek’s heart broke a little more when Danny shook his head, looking just as defeated as the rest of them.

“Nothing.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to all who left kudos, comment, and bookmarks, you guys make me smile :)


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter with a new character! I know some people were concerned as to how Stiles was going to be saved, that little plan will start this chapter. I'm thinking updates are going to every Monday from now on, but I might stray from that. 
> 
> Enjoy!

When Stiles came to, he could the feel the pain pulsing throughout his very being. Lyall had had his ‘fun’, dragging his claws down Stiles’ bare chest, just deep enough to split the skin. He had hit him every time Stiles opened his mouth to make a smarmy comment. Stiles finally passed out when Lyall had left a considerably hard blow to the head.

He woke to the sound of the door creaking open and small, hesitant footsteps making their way down the staircase. Thinking it was Lyall again, Stiles didn’t even think to raise his head to see who it was.

They walked closer and closer until he could see the tip of their shoes. The person was wearing a pair of worn out white converse, not the thick worker boots he had seen Lyall wearing before. Curiosity got the best of him and he looked up to see a young girl. She was probably a year or two younger than him, sixteen maybe, her dark hair was pulled back into an artful braid that draped over her shoulder. Her features were sharp and angular, but nonetheless beautiful, and her skin was almost as dark as Boyd’s. She looked almost startled to have Stiles staring at her so intently, her eyes were wide with pity and concern.

“I’m supposed to feed you.” Her voice was hesitant and cautious, Stiles noticed the glass of water and small wrapped sandwich in her hands. Her fragile fingers were shaking slightly. Stiles was confused by this, but at the same time he understood. This girl didn’t want to be here any more than he did.

“What’s your name?” Stiles’ voice was hoarse, but he made himself sound as friendly as possible.

“Cassie.” The girl, or Cassie, responded meekly. She looked surprised, like she wasn’t expecting him to speak. She holds out the sandwich in front of him obviously feeling a little braver, “Are you hungry?”

Now that Stiles thinks about it, he’s actually starving, it’s been a little over a day since he’d been taken, and a little longer since he’d eaten. He nodded minutely, careful not to aggravate his injuries. He watched as she carefully unwrapped the sandwich and shakily brought it to his mouth, like she was afraid he’d bite her. He was relieved when he finally got a bite of sandwich, it was dry and tasteless, and is entire face hurt when he chewed, but he was so grateful for the food he couldn’t care less.

It was slow going, but he eventually finished the sandwich and glass of stale water along with it. “Thank you.” he said honestly when he was finished.

Cassie obviously wasn’t expecting the praise, because she actually smiled widely. “You’re welcome.” she responded shyly after a moment.

“Cassie, what are you doing here with these people? I can tell that you don’t want to be.” Stiles decided it would be best to try and befriend her. Yes she could potentially be his escape, but it was more than that; she was shy and clearly lonely, Stiles wanted to help her. He wasn’t sure he would be much help broken, bloody, and tied to a chair.

Cassie’s eyes widened at his question, she looked to be at battle with herself on whether or not she wanted to talk. After a moment of thought she said, “He took me when I was 13, said I smelled nice and had pretty eyes. I didn’t know anything about werewolves then, but I had time to get over that shock. He keeps me human, I don’t know why, he only uses me for errands anyways.”

“He. You mean Lyall?”

“Yeah, and the rest of the pack, they don’t act as if I exist, except when they need something done.” She looked down at her feet sadly.

“Cassie, you know can leave right? I mean you said you had been taken, that means you have a family out there looking for you, right?” Stiles took a breath, gauging her reaction, “And if you don’t you could always go to Derek, he’d take you in I know it. Our pack wouldn’t treat you like that, you’d be an equal.”

Cassie looked at him in what could only be described as disbelief. She looked utterly shocked at his offer. “B-but I can’t leave, he’d kill me. He’d only find me again, that’s what he told me.”

“Cassie if you go to Derek, I promise you he won’t be able to get you.” It was a heavy promise, but Stiles knew Derek would protect her if he knew what was happening. And if Cassie went to Derek, she could tell him where Stiles was.

Cassie looked as if she were weighing her options, she took a shaky breath, “I’ll think about it.” And with that she was climbing the stairs and calmly shutting the door on her way out.

 

\---

 

As soon as Cassie shut the door to the basement, she began to weigh her options. She didn’t really know what to think about Stiles, she thought he would be hostile and mean, maybe even defeated and somber after what he’d been through. But she hadn’t expected him to be so kind and grateful towards her, no one had ever acted that way towards her in years. He had even went so far to offer her help. She couldn’t believe it, she had been stuck with Lyall and his pack for three years, and this was the first time she actually saw a way out.

Not a day went by when she didn’t think of her family, she wondered if her mom and dad were looking for her, if her little sister still looked for her to take her to the park when she was bored. She wanted so badly to see them again, but Lyall had made it perfectly clear that if she attempted to escape she would regret it.

Cassie didn’t entirely understand why Lyall kept her around and human, she guesses he only uses her as a servant. Even after three years with them, she still doesn’t know much about the pack. She know’s that they have around 22 wolves in their party, mostly men, a few women. And then there was the witch. Cassie had never liked her, Teresa unnerved her, she had that way about her where you could never look at her in the eye without feeling the need to shiver.

Teresa was obviously extremely powerful, and she did nothing but abuse said power. She used her magic for her own amusement, and with it thought she was above everyone around her. To put it lightly the women was a bitch.

Honestly, she barely knew the rest of the pack name’s, they tended to avoid her unless they needed something done. She had noticed that they had started to argue behind Lyall’s back; some would say he was a power-hungry lunatic, others called him a great leader. The pack itself was starting to split, and Lyall was too busy with his plan to become big and bad to notice.

Cassie was sick of it, sick of not being noticed, sick of only being needed when convenient. Stiles had reminded her of what life used to be, when she would spend time with her family and friends, doing regular teenage-girl things. Hell, she couldn’t even remember the last time she laughed.

She thought about Stiles’ offer to go to someone called Derek. What if he was like Lyall? But Stiles had said he would protect her. Could he really be her ticket back to her family?  Could she really escape?

Now that she thought of it, how could she escape? Werewolves had that freaky super hearing and smell, how could she possibly find a way to escape with Stiles without being noticed by anyone? She would have to take more with Stiles if they were going to make it out of this together.

Stiles had been the first to show her any sort of kindness in the last three years of her life, she owed it to him to help him make it out of this rickety old house and back to his family. Maybe it would lead her back to her family too.

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, I am so sorry for the late update, I got caught up with school and such :( I was also editing a fic by the lovely flo_rian, you can check out her fic here http://archiveofourown.org/works/1660214, it's fabulous.  
> Next update should be next Monday, but I make no promises.
> 
> Anyways, Enjoy!

It had been three days since Stiles was taken from them, and they were beginning to get more and more desperate. With each passing hour, Derek was becoming more irritable, he would snap and yell at anyone he got the chance to. Everyone in the pack was on edge, waiting for the moment where Derek broke.

Each moment away from Stiles was slowly tearing him apart. Derek could feel it, each strand of his very being, plucked and pulled like a poorly played instrument. He knew he was being unfair to his pack, snapping at them like that, but he couldn’t help it. Nothing would be okay until his mate was back in his arms.

The pack was currently at a loss. With each passing hour, they had come no closer to finding Stiles. And the likeliness of him being alive when they did find him was slimming as time passed.

The pack had insisted that Derek go home and rest, they all knew he hadn’t sleeping the past few days due to the lack of Stiles. It took a lot convincing and threats of bodily harm for him to begrudgingly agree and head home. He had reluctantly laid in their bed, avoiding Stiles side of the bed like the plague. He was afraid if he felt how cold the sheets had become in Stiles’ absence he would snap.

Derek was reminded of how whole he felt when he and Stiles had first gotten together. Derek had realized that Stiles was his mate the first time he smelled him in those woods when he was searching for Scott’s inhaler. The smoky vanilla scent was like a punch to the gut, overwhelming and intense. After seeing him for the first time, Derek was gone, head-over heels. But he knew he couldn’t be with someone so young, someone who had so much going for him. So instead he hid his feeling behind obvious threats of bodily harm, and intensive staring.

But after all that had happened, Stiles and Derek had become inevitably close. Stiles had proven to Derek that he wouldn’t leave him behind, that he was willing to risk his life for Derek’s safety. Hell, he had held Derek’s paralyzed ass up in eight feet of water for over two hours while a scaly Jackson was prowling around the pool. He may have acted ungrateful at the time, but that moment had solidified his love for Stiles, making it that much harder to stay away.

What made it that much harder was the fact that Stiles did little to hide his feelings from Derek. He may not have proclaimed it outright, but there was always that less than subtle arousal in the air whenever Stiles was around him. Sometimes Derek would catch him staring at him, when he wasn’t staring at Stiles himself. Sometimes Derek would get lost in the image of his mate, his creamy complexion, his adorable upturned nose, whiskey rich eyes, and the moles and freckles that littered his body.

Their little dance around each other had ended after a ‘pack meeting’, which actually consisted of eating take out, and sleeping in a big pack cuddle on Derek’s couch. The morning after when everyone was gone, he and Stiles had been sprawled out of the couch, pretending to watch the television. Derek had his arm wrapped protectively around Stiles’ waist, attempting to ignore the spicy scent of arousal wafting of his mate.

After a few moments, Stiles turned in his grip until he was facing Derek, their nose almost touching at how close they were. Derek made no attempt to move away as Stiles stared into his eyes. He looked as though he was having an internal battle with himself, Derek was beginning to get slightly confused. Before he could ask what he was doing Stiles had mumbled, “Fuck it.” And suddenly Stiles’ lips were on his own, slightly clumsy but nonetheless their.

Derek had been so surprised by this turn of events he had tensed and stilled in shock. Stiles on the other hand had thought he had done something wrong, immediately pulling away blushing furiously and mumbling how sorry he was, and that he had ruined their friendship.

Seeing no way to shut Stiles up, he grabbed Stiles by the back of his neck and pulled him to searing kiss. Now it was Stiles’ turn to freeze in shock, but he quickly got over it and returned the kiss full force. They had remained that way for a few more minutes, kissing and holding each other like they were afraid the other would somehow slip away.

When they finally pulled away Stiles had asked hesitantly, “So does this make us boyfriends now?”

Derek doesn’t think he’d ever smiled that genuinely since the fire, and answered him with a chaste kiss.

Lost in the memory, Derek had managed to fall into a restless sleep. During the middle of the night, his hand had unconsciously reached over to the other side of the bed, where it was met with nothing but cold sheets.

 

\---

 

Stiles didn’t know how long he’d been there, three maybe four days? There were no windows in the basement to indicate the time. How long he had been there didn’t really matter at the moment, what did matter was the fact he had to pee like something _fierce_.

He tried to squirm in his seat to distract the need to pee, I mean come on, the poor guy hadn’t been allowed a bathroom in three days. Every time he moved he just aggravated another one of his injuries. He tried bouncing his legs, but even without the knife plunged in one them, it still hurt like a mother. And moving his upper half was out of the question as well, he was pretty sure he had at least a few broken ribs as well as heavy bruising just about everywhere. So he was left with trying to distract himself with thoughts of very very dry things. Like the desert, or the inside of his mouth at the moment, anything to keep himself from pissing his pants.

His desperate thoughts were interrupted by the familiar sound of the squeaky old door opening. Just as he had done countless times before, Lyall strode down the stairs all cocky and smug-like. When he got the chance, Stiles was definitely going to punch this guy in the face.

“Ah just the man I wanted to see,” Stiles said before Lyall could begin one of his cliche villain soliloquies, “Listen dude, I really gotta pee. So if you could let me outta the chair and let me go to the bathroom, I think we’ll all be happy.”

Lyall raised an eyebrow, “And why would I do that?”

“Cause if you don’t I’m gonna end up going in my pants, and you and I both are going to have to smell that.” He grinned sweetly for added effect.

Lyall’s face contorted in disgust before he sighed, “Fine.” He then moved to untie the ropes around his wrists and ankles. When he was finally on his feet he almost fell right back down, days of being stuck in the same position as well as his injuries made his muscles cramp and scream in agony.

The stairs were a bitch, but he eventually limped up them, Lyall helped by pushing him roughly up them from behind. The house was just as dusty and dilapidated as he thought it’d be, the paint was chipped, the ceiling look like it would collapse any minute.

Stiles wasn’t given much more time to take in his surroundings before he was shoved into an equally disgusting bathroom. He resisted the urge to shudder as he took in the rusted and moldy appliances. He was quick to do his business, feeling exponentially relieved when he caught sight of an old rusted pipe underneath the sink, barely attached to the connecting pipes.

It wasn’t long before he found himself on the floor pulling at the pipe in the hopes of yanking it free from the plumbing. He let out an internal cry of happiness when the pipe finally snapped off. His makeshift weapon would do little to kill a werewolf, but it might be enough to incapacitate one for a few moments, giving him time to find Cassie and get the hell out of dodge. Stiles knew his plan had very little chance of actually working, but he to at least try.

With the pipe behind his back, Stiles cracked the door open slightly, seeing Lyall standing with his back to him just five feet away. Being as quiet as could possibly be, Stiles limped over to the man, pipe ready in his hands.

He made it a few feet when a floorboard creaked underneath him. He cursed internally when he saw Lyall’s ears prick up like a dog’s would. Lyall turned quickly, looking at him in mild surprise when he noticed the pipe aimed toward him, his surprise quickly turned to rage.

Stiles looked nervously at the man in front of him, then back down to the pipe in his hands. Ah screw it, he thought. He thrust the pipe forward into Lyall’s stomach, which the man obviously wasn’t expecting because he looked down in pure shock at the object protruding from him.

Stiles took that opportunity to kick Lyall down with his good leg, and sprint (well, sprint as best he could on one leg) down the hall. He soon realized how little he had thought this plan through, he had no idea where these hallways lead, and he could hear Lyall’s quick footsteps gaining behind him.

After turning down seemingly countless hallways, he made it to an open room, maybe a living room of some sorts. There he was met with over two dozen eyes on him. Most of them he had never seen before, but they were openly growling at him, fangs out and eyes glowing, getting out of their seats and making their way towards him. He noticed Teresa, the witch, hefting her staff to side and glaring at him. Cassie sat in the corner, hugging her knees, looking at him in pity and concern.

“Uh, guess I took a wrong turn?” His voice wavered as he tried to backtrack, almost tripped over his own feet in fear. He tensed when he felt something solid hit his back, he cringed openly when he turned to see and angry Lyall staring back at him.

“You really think you can escape me?” Lyall spat, and suddenly Stiles had the breath knocked out of him as he was slammed into the nearest wall, Lyall’s hand firmly around his neck.

Stiles gasped and shook his head as he tried to breath through the vice like grip around his airway. Lyall’s smug smile was back on his face and he watched Stiles struggle beneath him. “Well, I guess we’ll just have to teach you a lesson now won’t we?”

Lyall threw him into the middle of the room, and Stiles soon found himself surrounded by a pack of angry werewolves. “Have at him boys,” he heard Lyall’s voice from across the room, “Just try not to kill him, we need him alive if we’re ever going to get Hale.”

The other wolves smiled ravenously as they descended upon him.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me what ya think


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello friends, not sure I like how this chapter turned out...but whatever 
> 
> Warning: There is a description of a panic attack in this chapter. I myself have never experienced a panic attack so I apologize if this description is incorrect in any way. 
> 
> Enjoy!

It was when he went back out on patrol to search for Stiles’ scent with Erica and Boyd when he got the message. He had kept the phone given to him by Lyall a few days before, hoping in vain it would provide some sort of help in the future.

Turns out keeping the phone was both a good and bad thing. Good in the sense that they might me able to track it back to its owner somehow. Bad in the fact that Lyall seemed to know he had it, and in turn knew how to get to him.

They had been out in the deep stretches of wood in the preserve, nearing the edges of his territory, and still had found nothing that even remotely led to Stiles. He was about to tell Erica and Boyd to turn back with him when heard the phone chime in his jacket pocket. Boyd hustled over with Erica not far behind, knowing it wasn’t Derek’s phone that had chimed.

Derek nearly ripped a hole in his pocket trying to retrieve the phone. When he finally succeeded in getting the phone from the depths of his leather jacket, he saw he had an awaiting message from an unknown number. From what he could tell Lyall, the sick fuck, had sent him a video.

He hesitantly pressed play while Erica and Boyd watched from over his shoulders. Derek doesn’t really know what he was expecting, but what started to play on the video was something out of his worst nightmares.

Stiles was on curled on the ground, hands grasping his head and knees tucked up to his chest in an attempt to shield himself from the blows crashing down upon him. He was surrounded by a group of werewolves, all snarling and growling as they each fought over him, fighting over who got to get at him next.

One of the wolves grabbed Stiles by the scruff of his neck, forcing him onto his feet where he promptly punched him in the abdomen relentlessly, the other wolves taking the opportunity to join in as well. They laughed when Stiles cried out in pain, and sneered when he tried to squirm out of the firm grasp holding him in place.

Stiles face was a mess of blood, dirt, and tears, it made Derek’s wolf whimper and cry at the sight of his mate. He could tell he wasn’t the only one, because Boyd and Erica were whining openly at the sight of their hurt packmate.

Derek was debating turning the video off when suddenly a voice came over the noise of rowdy werewolves, “See Derek? See what happens when you don’t listen? Little shit thought he could escape, got to hand it to him, he was brave enough to try.” Derek growled despite knowing Lyall couldn’t hear him. “Now, I’m done with games. I already told you Derek, I want you and your pack dead. And if you can’t give me that, then looks like I’m going to have to kill your mate too. Too bad really, I was starting to like him, such a smart mouth. Who knows what kind of things I could do with such a pretty mouth like that.” Derek could almost hear the smirk forming on Lyall’s mouth, he felt physically sick at the mention of him doing something like that too Stiles.

“I’ll give you one chance for a peaceful conversation, meet me at the local coffee shop in half and hour. You may bring one of your betas along with you and I will do the same. No weapons, no fighting, just a talk. If you don’t conform to my rules, I’ll kill your precious little mate.” On the video screen, Stiles had just received a particularly hard hit to the head, effectively knocking him out. Then the video cut to black.

Instead of the anger he thought would begin to boil inside him, he was filled with a feeling of utter hopelessness. They had been searching for days with no avail, while Stiles was being beaten. And Derek could do nothing to stop it. He was supposed to be there for Stiles, he was the one who was supposed to keep him from harm. And if he couldn’t even do that what kind of mate was he?

Derek didn’t realize his fingers were trembling until he noticed the phone shaking violently in his hand. He felt bile rise in his throat as he replayed what he had just witnessed on the screen seconds before. His throat began to close up and his chest tightened as it became harder to breath all of a sudden. He didn’t register he had fallen to his knees until he felt damp grass under the fabric of his jeans.

Derek tried to breath but found he couldn’t, it felt like something was choking him, like someone had wrapped a cord around his throat and pulled it tight, not allowing him to take in enough oxygen. Boyd and Erica were by his side in no time, both looking at him in concern and shock. It became increasingly harder to breath, so hard that he began to see black seep into the edges of his visions. He could hear himself wheezing and saw his chest heaving in a fleeting attempt to gather enough oxygen.

He heard Erica’s voice over the commotion of his own mind, “Derek! Derek, listen to me you have to breath. I think you’re having a panic attack. Listen to my breathing, listen to my heartbeat. Come on, Derek.”

A panic attack? Was he having a panic attack? He’d never experienced a panic attack before, hell, he didn’t even think werewolves could get panic attacks. Looks like he’s breaking the laws of lycanthropy. Go Derek. Dammit now he was starting to think like Stiles.

When he thought for sure he was going to pass out from lack of oxygen, he focused on Erica’s words. On Boyd’s comforting touch. On both of his betas rapid and frantic heartbeats and their quick but calm breaths. He focused on matching their breathes with his own. Slowly he felt himself calming, his breaths turning from laboured and wheezing into slower and deeper.

When he was finally calm enough, he looked up to his betas, both of them looking at him like he was going to break. He hated them looking him like that, he was their alpha, their leader, they were supposed to look at him with respect and make him feel superior. Seeing them stare at him like they were afraid he’d crumble at the slightest touch did something to him. He was finally realizing how much the loss of Stiles was affecting him. He needed his mate back.

“I’m okay. I’m okay.” He said after a moment, not only trying to placate his worried betas but to reassure himself as well.

 

\---

 

He had woken up alone, back in the dingy old basement he had been growing accustomed to, Lyall hadn’t even bothered to tie him back onto the chair. Stiles wasn’t really all that surprised with Lyall’s carelessness, seeing as he could barely lift a finger without crying out in pain much less orchestrate another escape plan.

He doesn’t know exactly how long he was out, all he knows is he just wants to go back to sleep, or unconsciousness, whatever works really. As long as he escaped the incessant pain coursing through his body he’ll be happy. He feels like he’s been hit by a truck, repeatedly. He knew werewolves had super strength, but damn, he had really underestimated how much damage they could do without killing him.

His thoughts were put on hold when he heard the familiar sound of the door opening, and soft footsteps coming down the stairs. Stiles knew Lyall’s footsteps were always heavy and loud from the thick-soled work boots he always wore. These were softer, quieter, almost hesitant. And Stiles knew that couldn’t be anyone else but Cassie.

“Stiles?” She said meekly, looking at him as if she weren’t sure he was actually alive at the moment.

Stiles grunted in response, not bringing himself to actually form words due to the pulsing pain radiating throughout him.

“I brought food and water. And I can clean your wounds if you want?”

Stiles looked up from where he was staring off to look at her, she looked so small and afraid he couldn’t help but feel for the girl. Being taken from her home and brought into a pack full of fuckwads like them can’t be fun. She deserved to have someone care for her, and Stiles would be damned if he didn’t try.

“Sure.” His voice was hoarse and raw, but it was insignificant compared to the rest of his problems at the moment.

Without another word, Cassie set down the supplies she had brought, and lifted a bottle of water to his lips. He drank it greedily, the cool liquid soothed his throat and settled his stomach somewhat, and he was grateful for that small pleasure. Shortly after Cassie began to clean and dress his various wounds. He tried not to wince or cry out as he was handled into a sitting position, and she began to work on him. Her hands were soft and nimble, and she was surprisingly good at dressing wounds. He thinks he’ll have to introduce her to Ms. McCall at some point.

Which reminds him, escape plan numero dos. “Cassie, remember how I said we were gonna get out of here?”

She nodded.

“Well this is how we’re gonna do it.”

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the little cliffhanger


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again, new chapter hooray! Sadly this story is almost over, only a few more chapter I think. 
> 
> Enjoy!

“Are you sure this is going to work?” Cassie asked. She was fiddling with the hem of her shirt nervously. He could tell she was scared, but who wouldn’t be? The poor girl was about to try and sneak around a pack of werewolves with supernaturally enhanced senses and hope she didn’t get caught.

“Of course!” He tried to sound confident and reassuring for her sake, but he honestly wasn’t sure how his plan would turn out. But in all honesty his voice may have cracked like a prepubescent boy.

Cassie looked at him like with a look of utter disbelief, “You’re serious. I can’t just go and waltz out of a house filled with werewolves and just hope they don’t notice with some herbs that _might_ work”

“No, no, no. Listen I swear these herbs I told you about _will_ work, they will mask your scent and your heartbeat as well as any noise you make while moving. But they won’t make you invisible, you’ll have to find a way to get out without anyone actually _seeing_ you.”

“That doesn't make me feel a whole lot better.”

“I know Cassie, I know. I wouldn't make you do something like this if it wasn't necessary. We talked about this, you’ll go at night, which minimizes the chance of anyone seeing you. You’ll go to Derek and tell him where I am. Then big rescue mission and we all live happily ever after!” He winced as he grinned and held two thumbs.

“But what about you? Once they notice I’m gone they’ll suspect you immediately!”

“I’ll be fine, I promise. I’ll put on my big boy pants and deal with it.” he sighed, “Listen I know you’re worried, and you have more than enough reason to be worried. But think about it, if this plan works we’ll get to see our families again. And I know you've been dying to see your family, and I want to be there when you finally see them again. You deserve to be with them, not here.”

Her eyes softened and Stiles knew he had her. He wasn't giving her false hopes or just

saying things to get her to agree with his plan, he really meant it. This poor girl had been stuck with this pack for years, without her consent, and she’s been dying to see her family. He wanted to see Cassie back with them, know that he had been the one to bring her happiness back. And even if he didn’t make it out and she still got reunited with her family, he would be just as happy.

But this wasn’t just for her sake, as much as he wanted to help Cassie, he wanted to see Dad and the pack again. Each hour he could feel the hole inside himself growing larger the more time he spent away from them. He was probably giving his dad a heart attack right now, but he knew the pack would make sure he didn’t eat any junk food, so at least he had that small comfort. He missed them all so much, he missed arguing over what movies to watch, having food fights in the kitchen, and he especially missed pack cuddles. More than anything he missed waking up next to Derek in the morning, missed his smile and his adorable bunny teeth, missed being able to wrap his arms around him like a monkey and cling.

“Stiles, you’re the first person in years to ever look at me like I was something more servant. I want to help you. And I want to see my family again, more than anything. But you have to understand why I’m apprehensive about this, what if something happens to you while I’m gone and I’m the one who causes it? I can’t live with myself knowing that you could be hurt because of me.” Her eyes began to shine and her chin trembles with barely contained distraught.

Stiles kissed her temple in an attempt to comfort her, “I get it, I really do. I know exactly how you feel because I've been in these types of situations before. But what’s worse than doing something and something going wrong, is doing nothing when you could done something.”

The next thing he knew Cassie’s arms were wrapped around his torso in a tight hug and tried to contain a groan as she pressed against his injuries.

Sensing his blatant discomfort, Cassie quickly moved away, “Shit sorry. I forgot you were hurt. I don’t know how I forgot you were hurt, I mean look at you. You’re a big lump of bruises and blood. Crap I really need to stop talking.” Stiles laughed as he realized this is what people had to deal with on a daily basis with Stiles himself. Laughing turned out to be a bad idea as it seriously aggravated his broken ribs.

Once she had calmed down from her little rant she said, “OK, I’ll do it. Just like we planned. If we’re gonna do this, it’s gonna work. We’ll get out of this together, even if it’s not all at once.”

Stiles grinned, “I’ll hold you to that.”

 

\---

 

_4 hours later._

Derek and Scott had been waiting for over an hour for Lyall and his pack mate to arrive. Derek figured it was probably just Lyall being a douchebag and making them wait, but part of him was worried something had happened and Stiles was caught in the middle of it.

The minute he had gotten back to the Hale house with Erica and Boyd not too long ago, he had called in the rest of the pack as well as the Sheriff and Chris. John had looked even more devastated than he had a few days ago when he saw his sons fingernails in a box when Derek had told him about the video he had been sent of Stiles getting the shit beat out of him. Derek could only imagine how he was feeling, having his only son be taken from right under his nose and then tortured all for the sake of being some pawn in the scheme of a shit Alpha out for Derek’s blood. The rest of the pack could sense the sadness, anger, and despair radiating from John, which only pushed them harder into their effort to find Stiles.

Scott had been elected to join Derek on their little journey to meet the Alpha of the other pack. Seeing as Scott was his third in command, seconded only to Stiles, and Stiles’ best friend of over a decade, it seemed only fit that Scott be the one to accompany him.

He knew that Lyall had chosen the coffee shop as their meeting place to ensure there would be no outbreak of a fight. This meant that Lyall could potentially say anything he wanted, no matter how much in angered Derek, and Derek wouldn't be able to react violently, not unless he wanted to expose the supernatural world and/or be arrested.

Derek was pulled from his thoughts by the chime of the shop door being opened and the familiar scent of foreign wolves and magic. Scott shifted by his side, obviously retaining the urge to growl at the wolves and witch approaching them. He recognized Lyall from his slick back ponytail and enormous stature, another he didn't know the name of with a similar build like Lyall’s, but unlike Lyall this man was bald and pale. A woman stood behind them, dressed in tight leather and a smug smirk on her face. She reminded him too much Kate, the thought alone sent unpleasant shivers down his spine.

After they were all seated, Lyall was the first to speak, “Ah boys, sorry to keep you waiting. I don’t really have a reason I just figured I’d let you stew in your own thoughts for a while.”

Derek really wanted to punch that stupid smirk off of his face, “What happened to bringing only one pack member? Seems a little less than fair for you to bring two of your own while I have only one.”

“Ah Derek, you’re going to have to learn, not everyone is going to play fair,” he paused, “Now back to business. You obviously know I currently have possession of your mate. And you know what I want, you dead and your pack as mine. You give me that and I won’t kill your precious little mate.”

“Do you honestly think I’m stupid? Do you think I don’t know that even if I give you what you want you won’t kill my pack anyways?” Derek growled, his claws threatening to scrape along the wooden table.

Lyall chuckled, “Aw Derek, you already know me so well. You may be right about that, but I may actually keep that mate of yours. What a mouth that boy has, think about all the things I could do with that mouth alone.”

Derek and Scott openly growled at that, causing a couple of concerned gazes to be thrown their way. Just thinking about what that bastard was suggesting he would do with his mate made him physically sick.

“I could practice my magic on him too. Test out new spells, could be fun.” The woman sneered from Lyall’s side while the other man simply laughed.

“Ah Teresa I like your thinking.” Lyall smiled like he was mentally patting her on the pack, she returned the gesture with a devious smile of her own.

“You may think this is all fun and games, but you’re not going to win this. I don’t what you say, I’m going to get my mate back, and when I do you can sure as hell bet I’ll rip your throat out when I do.” Derek was losing his patience and control, doing his best not to reach over a slash Lyall’s throat then and there.

Lyall’s expression turned dark, “You’re kidding yourself if you think you could actually beat me. My pack severely outnumbers you, in both strength and power. I have the most important thing in your life in my hands. And you think you can beat _me_?” Lyall’s voice was raised to a shout, drawing worried looks from around the shop. “Go ahead and try. I’d love to watch you fail.”

Without another word, Lyall and his companions simply stood and calmly exited the coffee shop, leaving a fuming Derek and Scott behind in their wake.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking with me with all you comments, kudos, and bookmarks :D


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my lovelies! Sorry for the little hiatus, but school is finally over and I'm back from Cape Cod, so updating should go back to normal.  
> One thing I need your guys' help with. I have a few fics I've started and I don't know which one to really focus on. So I'm gonna let you guys vote on which one you'd like to see most. So please comment and tell me which one you like.  
> 1) Percy Jackson AU- Stiles is the son of Athena, and the pack tries to figure out where he goes every summer.  
> 2) Shifter AU- Stiles is a shifter (he can turn into any animal he wishes), and has been on the run from hunters nearly all his life. He ends up on Derek's doorstep, things occur.  
> 3) Avengers AU- Stiles is secretly a part of the Avengers (he has snazzy magic powers). The pack see's him fighting aliens in New York and is more than a little confused.  
> 4) Supernatural AU- Stiles is the Nephilim son of either Sam and Gabe or Dean and Cas (your pick). Angels, demons, and a pack of wolves, what could go wrong?
> 
> Sorry for the extensive notes...on to the story  
> Enjoy!

“Who are you?” Derek knew that was a little rude but he was so confused at the moment he didn’t think proper manners were necessarily important. It was almost noon, and he had been sitting in the Stilinski house living room with the Sheriff, going over any details they may have missed when there was a knock on the door. He opened the door only to find a girl, maybe around 15 or 16 years old, dark skin and thick black hair. There was fear and desperation in her dark brown eyes that made Derek’s heart clench.

“My name is Cassie,” she hesitated, wringing her hands together nervously, “You don’t happen to be Derek Hale, do you?”

Now he was even more confused, where the hell had this girl come from? “Uh, yeah?” he mentally face-palmed for his idiocy.

“Um, well Stiles sent me to talk to you-”

“Stiles? How the hell do you know Stiles? Do you know where he is?”

“Yes that’s what I came to tell you. Do you mind if I come inside? This might take awhile.”

Sensing no tick in her heartbeat and only fear and anxiety from her, he decided to let her in. This girl was the only real thing that could bring Stiles back to them, and he definitely couldn’t pass that up.

John looked curiously at the girl who just entered his living room, “Who is this young girl?” he asked, trying his best to be polite, but he was also trying to locate his son, so he had other priorities.

“John, this is Cassie, Cassie this is John. She says she’ll be able to help us find Stiles.”

John immediately perked up at that, he looked to the scared looking girl, “Honey, you mind sittin’ down and tellin’ us what you know?”

Cassie did as she was asked and began, “Well I guess I should give a bit of background before I start. I was taken by Lyall’s men when I was thirteen, for the past three years I’ve served them as merely a servant. I don’t think any of them even really acknowledge me half the time unless they need me for something,” her gaze fell to her lap, “Anyways, about a week ago, Lyall asked me to go clean up the Alpha mate. I didn’t really know what was happening at first, but needless to say it was Stiles who I was taking care of. Stiles is the first person to actually notice me in a long time, and I want to help him. He’s okay by the way, or at least as far as I know. He was pretty beat up when I last saw him, but I think if we get him back soon, he’ll be fine.”

Derek and John breathed a sigh of relief knowing, at least for now Stiles was okay. Well as okay as he could be in the current situation. After a moment Derek said, “That doesn’t exactly explain how you got here, how exactly did you manage to escape a pack of werewolves unless they let you. How do you know that they didn’t follow you out?”

Cassie sighed, “Well that’s where Stiles comes in. He told to collect some herbs, don’t remember the names of them, from a man called Deaton next time I was sent out on an errand. It wasn’t exactly easy making sure the wolves didn’t notice them. Once I had done that, Stiles helped me make a sort of poultice type thing, where if I carried it on my person, it would mask my scent, my heartbeat, and any noise I made with my body. The only thing it didn’t mask was my appearance, so I still had to make sure no one actually _saw_ me.

Surprisingly, it worked, I made sure to sneak out at night, so almost everyone was sleeping. The ones on patrol around the house didn’t notice me because it was too dark to see anything even with their freaky wolf senses. And then I came here, just like Stiles said.”

John smiled at that, this poor girl seems to have been forced to grow up too quickly. But he could tell there was a little girl in her. He reached a comforting hand out to place it on her knee, she looked surprised at the action, and almost a little heartbroken like she was reminded of something she’s been missing. “Thank you, for risking your own life to bring my boy back to me,” she gave a small smile and a slight nod, “Can you tell us where he is?”

“He’s about two towns over. There’s an abandoned farm house there, I had to walk here that’s why it took me so long to get here. I can give you directions if you’d like.”

“That would be great, why don’t you write them down on a scrap of paper while I talk with Derek.” John found her a piece of paper and pen, then motioned for Derek to come into the kitchen. “Is she telling the truth?”

“Yes sir, there were no ticks in her heartbeat. I believe she’s telling the truth. That means we need to get our shit together and save Stiles.”

“Alright call the pack over, we’ll make a plan. Did Chris call in those hunters in yet? Because we’re gonna need them.”

“I’ll call him. We need to be ready to move out in an hour, two at the most.”

John nodded dutifully and headed back into the living to talk more with Cassie. Derek leaned onto the counter behind, breathing in the first real breath he had since Stiles was taken. He felt as though part of the weight he had been carrying around on his shoulders had been lifted. He knew that only when Stiles was back in his arms would that weight would truly lift, he just needed to wait until that happened. And he would make that happen. Now that he had some clue as to where his mate was, he finally had hope. He wasn’t wasn’t just running on desperation and fear to find Stiles, now he actually had hope to find him. And anyone that even thought about crossing him while he did so had another thing coming.

 

\---

 

_The afternoon of Cassie’s disappearance_

“Where is she?” Lyall screamed, kicking his already broken ribs once again. Stiles cried out, black spots dancing in his vision from the pain.

“I told you I don’t know.” He coughed, tasting blood on his tongue. He wasn’t quite sure if it come from his body or if he had simply bitten his tongue, he seriously preferred the latter.

Unfortunately for Stiles, he was in too much pain to focus on keeping his heartbeat steady and Lyall heard the tell-tale tick. Lyall chuckled darkly, “You know I was going to keep you, put that smart mouth of yours to good use. But you seem to be more trouble than you’re worth.” He grabbed Stiles by his chin, forcing him to look directly at Lyall. “What do you think Derek will do once he see’s his mate dead and cold on the floor? Maybe he’ll go feral, oh I’d love to see that. What a show that would be, unfortunately that would make him too easy to kill. It would ruin all the fun, take away all that delicious angst and desperation.”

“Go to hell.” Stiles choked out. Lyall growled angrily moving his hand so it wrapped around Stiles’ throat and squeezed. Stiles’ eyes widened as it became increasingly hard to breath, his chest burned at the loss of oxygen.

“Now Stiles, you’ve brought this upon yourself. I like to think I’ve been relatively hospitable while you’ve been here.”

“You call t-torture hospitality?” Stiles rasped out as best he could. He was seriously regretting even opening his mouth when Lyall tightened his grip.

“And what have you done, taken my hospitality and thrown it out the window. Sending the little bitch out to your pack in a pitiful attempt at saving yourself. Or at least that’s what I assumed you’ve done.” Lyall snarled.

Stiles struggled uselessly under Lyall’s grip, clawing at the hand wrapped around his throat. The black spots that had previously been dancing in his vision had turned into blobs, things were starting to get fuzzy and out of focus. He gave a last attempt at breathing for the darkness claimed him completely.

Lyall sighed as the boy fell limp under his grip, face nearly purple with exertion and lack of oxygen. He released the grip he had on his throat and let the boy fall to the floor. For a moment Lyall had thought he’d killed him, but was disappointed by the faint heartbeat coming from Stiles.

“Well I guess I’ll just to let the Alpha witness the death of his mate. For him to come all this way to save his mate, only for him to be slaughtered right before his eyes,” he smirked mischievously, “Oh I like the sound out that.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that happened...


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So to give you guys a forewarning, I can' t write action scenes to save my life. So I'm not entirely thrilled with how this turned out, but whatever.  
> Also I typed part of this on my phone/mobile, so forgive me for any horrendous mistakes.
> 
> Enjoy!

The pack had gathered quickly after Derek had called them with news of a new lead. Before they arrived, he and John had devised a plan that would insure the safety of the Pack, as well as the recovery of Stiles, hopefully; they had discussed with Cassie all of the possible entrances and scape-ways they could use. They had gathered in the Stilinski living room like so many times before, only this time there was an unknown guest.

“Who the hell is she?” Jackson gestured to the girl sitting on the sofa.

“Jackson don’t be rude,” Lydia said, swatting at his shoulder before turning back to the girl, “But who are you?”

Cassie stared owl-eyed at the multitude of newcomers that entered the room, and all of their eyes were on her. She felt the urge to squirm in her seat, she was so unused to the feeling of so many eyes on her that it made her uncomfortable.

Before she could respond to their questions Derek stepped in, “This is Cassie. She came from the pack that took Stiles,” growls were heard around the room, “Stop that and let me finish. Cassie came here  as an ally, or so she says, she has information on where we can find Stiles. And seeing as we have no other leads, I'm going to take this one and see where it takes us."

The pack was silent at Derek's outburst, eyeing Cassie warily. Cassie shifted uncomfortably in her seat, tapping an uneven rhythm on her thigh in an attempt to calm herself.

After a beat of heavy silence Isaac spoke up, "Well then what's the plan?"

"That's why I called you here, to make a plan. We'll need to be able to move out in at least an hour, we can't risk them having time to move Stiles. That will only get us back to square one." Derek sighed before continuing, "This is the plan: We'll need to sit up into groups, one will be a distraction hopefully leading at least some of the wolves away from the main fight. The others will enter the house from several different entrances, the wolves won't know which way to go. Cassie said that Stiles is being held in the basement, meaning my team will have to make our way there with minimum fighting, we can’t waste time getting to him

Cora, Isaac and a few of Chris’ hunters, you will lead the distraction team, make sure you lead them far away from the barnhouse, subdue them if you can and kill them if you need to. Scott, Allison, and a few hunters will lead the group that will enter the side entrance. Erica, Boyd, and Chris will cover the front entrance. While my group, myself, John, and Peter will take the back entrance, Cassie has already given us directions to the basement from there so our main objective is Stiles. Lydia, Danny, and the rest of the hunters will stay outside the house and guard against any stragglers looking to run.

Cassie has told us there are at least 20 wolves in their pack, and one mage. I’ve met her, and I advize you to be careful around her. We may be outnumbered, but they are no match to us. This goes without saying, but please be careful and stick to the plan, we don’t need to lose anyone else.”

The Pack nodded solemnly before heading off to gather supplies they’d need for operation ‘Save Stiles’.

 

\---

 

The drive to the farmhouse was somber and quiet, no one quite brave enough to break the silence and lighten the mood. The only focus was on getting Stiles, they couldn’t help but think of the worst in a time like this; unsure of whether or not Stiles was even alive at the moment was eating away at them all.

The cars stopped once they reached the edge of the farmland, Cora’s team quickly exited and moved fluidly to where the house was located. Derek felt nervousness crawl up his spine as his sister and the others ran out of sight. He was relieved when he heard the sound of Isaac’s roar, signaling the success of their distraction.

He waited a few seconds to give Cora’s team time to lead the wolves away, before employing the other teams. Derek led them up to the point where they all split off into their respective teams and made their way to their assigned points of entry. His team waited for the sounds of fighting before entering the house.

It was as old and battered as Cassie had described it, the paint was chipping off the walls and the rafters at their feet were splintered and falling apart. Derek led them through the several hallways Cassie had directed him about, internally reciting the directions he was given as they navigated the hallways.

After turning yet another corner, they were met with three of the foreign wolves. As they advanced, John immediately took one of them down with a wolfsbane bullet to the heart. The other wolves stalled in shock as they watched their packmate fall dead, Peter and Derek took their opportunity to take out the other wolves without much of a fight.

It didn’t take them long to reach the basement door, Derek heard the sound of two heartbeats, one significantly slower than the other. That fact made him halt in fear, because he would bet anything that the slow heartbeat belonged to Stiles. And that scared him.

He turned to nod at both John and Peter before opening the door.

 

\---

 

The sight that caught Derek’s eye when he reached the bottom of the stairs made him want to vomit.

“Finally come to play, have you?” Lyall smirked mischieviously. Stiles was limp and unconscious in Lyall’s grip, his large hand wrapped around Stiles’ throat.

Derek growled low in his throat at the sight. He heard John gasp and Peter growl behind him, but paid little attention to it, he was focused solely on the sight of his mate vulnerable in the hands of the other alpha.

“Really Derek, I expected to see you sooner. Your mate and I have been having such fun. Can’t you tell?” Derek looked to the purpling bruises that covered Stiles’ face and torso and felt pure rage at knowing the man in front of him was responsible for it.

“Let him go.” Derek growled. He knew his demand was futile but he had to at least seem like he wasn't as scared as he was on the inside.

"Mm, I don't think I will. I quite like him, and he'll be my ticket out of here seeing as no one will touch me as long as I have my claws around his throat." He smiled smugly and Derek's claws lengthened and his fangs protruded from his gums.

Before he could make a move forward a shot reverberated throughout the room. Stiles' limp form fell heavily to the ground as Lyall clutched his bleeding foot in shock.

Derek turned around to see John holding the smoking gun, "You step away from my son."

It was Derek's turn to smile as both he and Peter descended upon the injured alpha. Peter moved to grab Lyall’s hands so they were restricted against his back. Derek grabbed Lyall by the chin and snarled “This is for what you did to my mate.”

But before his claws could break the skin of his neck, Lyall kicked back with his good foot, breaking one of Peter’s legs as Lyall freed himself from his hold. Lyall launched himself at Derek, knocking them both off balance and sprawling onto the floor.

Out of the corner of his eye, Derek could see John lifting Stiles off of the floor and up the stairs, making sure he was out of the way of danger. Knowing his mate was safe at the moment brought renewed strength and he flipped Lyall off of him.

A newly healed Peter dug his claws into Lyall’s back and flipped him onto his back. He howled in pain as Peter’s claws dug into him, effectively pinning him to the ground. Since Lyall was already weakened by the wolfsbane bullet to the foot courtesy of the Sheriff, Lyall was easy to subdue.

Derek didn’t waste time in pouncing on Lyall’s prone form and digging his claws into the flesh of his throat. Lyall gurgled and choked on his own blood as it poured from him, it almost sounded like he was asking “How?”. Derek simply growled in his face as the light left his eyes, “Never underestimate the strength of my Pack.”

Peter released his grip on the now dead alpha and turned to his nephew, “Well done Derek,” he pat him on the shoulder, “Your mother would have been proud of the Alpha you’ve become.”

Derek smiled sheepishly and gave his uncle a quick hug, before racing up the stairs to find Stiles.

He found him just as John and Scott were loading his still limp form into the back of Derek’s Camaro. He raced over them and maneuvered himself so that Stiles was laid across his lap.

Derek barely registered the fact that both John and Scott had hopped into the front seats and they were soon speeding off to the nearest hospital. The dirt road was rocky and uneven, causing the car to jump from side to side, this seemingly jostled Stiles from unconsciousness. He groaned meekly and his breathing began to stutter.

Derek cupped his hands against Stiles’ cheeks as his eyes fluttered open. “Hey Sourwolf.” His voice was raspy and broken but it was arguably the sweetest noise he had ever heard. Derek would have jumped for joy if he could have at the sound of his mate.

Then Stiles started coughing, violently hacking into Derek’s already ruined henley. Derek’s eyes widened at sight of stark red blood dribbling from his mouth and down his chin. He watched in horror as his mate’s eyes rolled into the back of his head and he went still in his arms.

“John drive faster.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone please take my laptop away from me


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey friends, I'm sorry to say but after this chapter there will only be one more update :( But I'm currently working on a few fics (mainly the one that people voted on) so you can look forward to that.   
> Also Teen Wolf in 10 minutes! Who's excited? 
> 
> Enjoy!

It had been 4 days since the fight at the farmhouse, 4 days since Stiles had been rescued, and 4 days of waiting for Stiles to wake up.

The minute the nurses at the hospital had gotten their hands on Stiles’ broken form he had been carried away on a gurney. The rest of the pack had arrived not long after, their wounds healed and the hunters sent on their way. They demanded to know how Stiles was, the worry and relief clear in their eyes when Derek told them about finding Stiles and his battle with the Alpha.

They exchanged stories of how the rescue mission went: Cora’s team was successful in leading about 6 of the wolves away from the main fight, and were easily taken care of with the combined effort of the werewolves and hunters. Scott’s team had a little trouble with the amount of werewolves they encountered, they had lost one of the hunters, but eventually made it out relatively unscathed. Erica’s team had the most trouble with the witch Teresa, she had ended up paralyzing Boyd, which did nothing but anger Erica even more, she made quick work of ripping out the bitch’s throat. Lydia and Danny didn’t have much trouble with the stragglers that managed to attempt to run away.

Derek was proud of what his pack was able to accomplish. Going up against that many wolves and a mage was not an easy feat, but his pack managed to take down every single one of them.

They had waited 6 long and painful hours until a tired looking doctor entered the room. Derek had been on his feet faster than he even thought possible, the Sheriff at his side and the pack all crowded behind him in seek of information on Stiles.

“Mr. Stilinski you know I can’t reveal any information about my patient to anyone other than family.”

“They are family.” Was all John said.

The doctor sighed, “Very well. Mr. Stilinski is doing well, considering. We had to preform surgery in order the repair his punctured lung caused by a broken rib, and drain the blood from his lung. He has a few broken fingers and ribs, a sprained wrist, and countless other lacerations and heavy bruising. He is in recovery at the moment, and he’ll be on watch until we deem him well enough to go home.”

The whole Pack let out a collective sigh of relief. After looking for him for so long, they couldn’t help but feel relieved at knowing he was going to be okay.

 

\---

 

That was 4 days ago and he had yet to awaken. The doctors said that he had been through a lot and it was best he sleep through the brunt of the pain.

But no matter how many times the doctors reassured him, Derek was still scared. What if Stiles never woke up? Derek didn’t know if he could live with himself if Stiles died. He couldn’t lose anyone else, he just couldn’t. He was one tragic act away from breaking down and he didn’t know what to do. He had just started feeling happiness again, a strong pack and a strong mate, he couldn’t have that taken away, not now.

The guilt was eating away at him, gnawing and clawing its way into his head and festering in putrid thoughts. If he had never gotten Stiles involved in this whole mess Stiles wouldn’t be laying broken and battered in a hospital bed.

He was pulled from his thoughts by the feeling of a warm hand on his shoulder, he looked up to find none other than the Sheriff looking at him like he was waiting for the answer to a question. Besides Derek, the Sheriff has been the most frequent visitor, only leaving for work and food and a shower. The rest of the pack was around regularly, trying to dodge school and other activities to visit Stiles.

“Uh, what?”

John sighed fondly, “I asked if you were alright. You look like someone ran over a puppy in front of you.”

Derek ran a hand over his face, “I’m as okay as I can be, considering I let my mate get kidnapped and beaten.”

John looked like he’d been slapped across the face, his face quickly turned into something of anger and confusion, “Derek Hale you look at me right now. I know you got a guilt complex the size of the moon, but you need to know that this wasn’t your fault. What happened to Stiles, was because that sick bastard wanted to play with your head, that makes it his fault. Not yours. I know for a fact that no one thinks this is your fault, and if Stiles were awake right now he would think the same. It is no one’s fault but the man that did this to him.”

Derek was stunned, unable to think of anything to say to counter John’s argument. He hadn’t expected the outburst from John, but he knew he had meant every word of it. Derek felt kind of stupid for letting it be known he thought it was his fault Stiles was hurt, but at the same time he knew he needed to hear it from someone that it wasn’t his fault. So instead of trying to think of a way to convince himself he was at fault no matter what people said, he simply smiled sheepishly and said a quick and sincere ‘Thank you’ to the Sheriff.

His gaze returned to Stiles as John settled in the seat on the opposite side of the bed. His face looked a lot better than it had when he had first seen it, the swelling had gone down and the bruises had taken on a more yellowish and pale color. Stiles look so peaceful and fragile in the hospital bed, his gown made him look so small. It was clear Stiles hadn’t been well taken care of the week he had been with Lyall’s pack, he was skinnier and had lost some of the muscle previously gained.

It reminded Derek of when he had first met Stiles, the lanky kid stumbling around in the woods looking for his friends inhaler. Derek smiled softly at the memory, that was the first time he had caught Stiles’ scent, the first time his wolf had screamed _mine_.

Derek gripped Stiles’ hand a little harder and laid his head against Stiles’ thigh, reminiscing in memories of him and Stiles that eventually lulled him to sleep.

 

\---

 

He woke to the monotonous tone of what he knew to be a heart monitor. His eyes were slow to open, but when they did he thanked every deity known to man that the lights were off. He knew from experience that waking up in the hospital with the light scorching your eyes was not fun.

The next thing he took in the pressure on his thigh and the grip on his hand. He looked down only to find Derek sleeping soundly at his side. He smiled softly, of course his sourwolf would be here.

He winced when he lifted his free hand, aggravating his sprained wrist, but still he took the opportunity to run his fingers through Derek’s hair. He grinned lazily as Derek began to stir, his brow furrowed in confusion before he blinked his eyes open, lifting them straight towards Stiles.

Derek’s smile was blinding, bunny-teeth and dimples, all on display, “You’re awake.”

“Hey Der-bear.” He winked.

Derek exaggerated a groan and said fondly, “I told you not to call me that Stiles.”

“But you love it anyways.” He replied, still running his fingers through his thick hair. “What time is it? How long have I been out? Did you kill Lyall? Is everyone okay? What happened to Cassie?”

Derek chuckled at Stiles' rambling, “It’s about 8:30 in the morning. You've been out almost 5 days, and yes everyone is just fine. Lyall and his pack are dead. And you're dad is working on getting Cassie back to her family,” his eyes fell to his lap, “I was scared you wouldn't wake up.”

Stiles cupped Derek’s chin with his hand, “Derek look at me. See I’m right here, and sure I’m a little beat up at the moment, but aren’t I always? I’m right here, and I’m here to stay. You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

Derek smiled sheepishly, “I don’t want to get rid of you and you know that,” he leaned up and kissed Stiles sweetly. When they pulled apart Derek leaned his forehead against Stiles’.

Before Derek could say it himself Stiles whispered, “I love you.”

Derek pecked a kiss to his nose and smiled, “I love you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up next: fluffy epilogue ;)


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy moly guys I actually finished this monster. I never intended for this fic to get so long, and I never expected to get this many hits, kudos, bookmarks, etc. But holy crap you guys are amazing! Thank you so much for sticking with me, you have no idea how grateful I am :D
> 
> Enjoy!

Epilogue

“Der-bear, time to wakey wakey!”

Derek grunted unintelligibly and buried his face deeper into his pillow. Stiles giggled beside him and moved across the bed until he was straddling Derek from behind, his crotch flush against Derek’s bottom.

He leaned in close until his lips were almost touching Derek’s ear, “Derek,” he sing-songed, “It’s time to get up, it’s 12 o’clock, I let you sleep in already. The sun is shining! The grass is green! Aaaand it’s a special someone’s birthday!”

Derek sighed heavily and turned his head, opening one eye so that he could see Stiles’ smiling face staring back at him. Stiles smile widened and he kissed Derek’s cheek before continuing, “And by someone special, I mean you big guy.”

“Stiles I told you I didn’t want anything special.”

“Yes and I chose to ignore that request. Come on, it’s not everyday my big macho Alpha turns 25! Let’s celebrate, and you can’t say no because the pack’s already downstairs waiting.”

Derek moved them until he was on his side with Stiles opposite of him, their foreheads nearly touching at the closeness, “Can my present be more sleep?”

“No sirree, I’m gonna have to veto that one,” Stiles lowered his voice into a seductive

whisper, “Don’t worry, loverboy, I’ve got a little something special planned for later.” He winked, got up from the bed, and limped out of the room.

It had been almost 5 months since the kidnapping incident. The first month or so was difficult, Stiles had barely gotten more than a few hours of sleep every night because of his night terrors.

His recovery had taken a long time. Hell, he was still recovering. His bruises had eventually faded and his broken bones had healed over time, and his nails had only recently grown back entirely. But it took a while for his lungs to repair themselves, it had taken a long time for him to be able to exert himself to a certain point where he could still move with without having a hard time breathing. His leg seemed to take the longest; when Lyall stabbed him, it had severed quite a few muscles and tendons. Through lots of physical therapy and surgery he gained back some of muscles he had lost and the tendons had been repaired. But he still walked with a limp, and would for quite some time until his leg fully healed.

Luckily the pack had yet to encounter any more threats to Beacon Hills and/or their pack, which was both good and bad. Good in the sense that for once they could finally relax somewhat, and bad in the sense that they were always on the lookout for something to come out at them.

Derek sighed again as he pulled himself from thoughts and rose from the bed, pulling on a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, before making his way downstairs.

Just as Stiles had said, the whole pack was waiting for him in the kitchen. When he entered the room he was bombarded by several shouts of “Happy Birthday” in various levels of loud. And if he wasn’t awake before he certainly was now.

Cora jumped at the chance to pull him into a bear-hug, and he wrapped his arms around her in return. The rest of the pack, even Peter, took the opportunity to join in on the hug, and soon Derek was surrounded by the people he loved most. It felt so good to have them in his arms especially Stiles, who had curled into his side, nuzzling Derek’s neck with cheek.

“Thanks guys.” He said roughly trying to shield his emotions from the pack, but they were not so easily fooled. But luckily if they did notice anything they said nothing and just smiled at him.

“You’re welcome, oh Alpha of mine,” Erica was the first to say, “Now come on, let’s eat ‘breakfast’.”

Once they had all pulled away from their little hug-fest, Derek was directed to a seat at the large island in the kitchen. Stiles was behind him, arms draped across his waist and his chin resting against his shoulder. He watched amusedly as Scott went to the stove and picked up the spatula, making a move to flip the cooking pancakes and bacon on the griddle.

He felt Stiles weight removed from his body hastily as Stiles shouted, “Scott, what have we said about you in the general vicinity of cooking food!”

Scott’s shoulders slumped as he lowered the spatula and frowned like a sad puppy, “Oh come on! It was one time!”

“McCall I’m tellin’ you right now it was way more than ‘one time’.” Jackson voiced from the other end of the kitchen.

Scott whined like a petulant child and eventually put down the spatula before dramatically stomping over to Allison who gave him an “Aw poor Baby.” and gave him a hug.

The rest of pack chuckled at Scott’s antics, while Stiles went back to cooking their breakfast/lunch.

A few moments later Derek was presented by a huge plateful of pancakes and bacon, the pancakes were slathered in syrup and whipped cream, with a candle stuck in the center. Stiles smiled mischievously as he pulled out the whipped cream container and quickly squirted a dollop of it on Derek’s nose. He whipped out his phone and snapped a picture of a very confused and cross-eyed Derek.

After taking the picture, Stiles smiled triumphantly and leaned forward to lick the whipped cream off of Derek’s nose, “Happy Birthday Der.”

Derek narrowed his eyes playfully, “What did I do to deserve a child of a mate.”

Stiles gasped theatrically, “Excuse me sir, but I am a perfectly mature 18 year old man, and you are lucky to have me.” He moved to make a dramatic exit but tripped over his on foot on the way out, he flailed helplessly but caught himself on the doorframe. The whole pack, especially Derek burst out in hysterical laughter. Stiles blushed bright red and grumbled “Shut up,” before dejectedly plopping himself in Derek’s lap and stealing a bite of his bacon.

 

\---

 

Later that night, the pack was all crowded in the living room, each of them in various states of drunkenness. Peter had reluctantly presented them with his secret stash of wolfsbane induced alcohol, while the humans binged on the non-wolfified vodka and beer they had. Lydia, Jackson, Erica, Boyd, and Danny were participating in a rather riveting drinking game in the corner. Allison and Scott were predictably lazily making out in the opposite corner. Peter, Cora, and Isaac were all snuggling tiredly on the couch beside Derek and Stiles.

The couple in question was curled up together on the couch, Derek carding his finger through Stiles’ soft hair. Out of all them, Derek and Stiles surprisingly had drank the least.

Stiles looked up at him with his doe brown eyes that Derek loved, “So Derek, how was your birthday? Everything you hoped it would be and more?’

Derek chuckled and kissed his forehead, “I loved it Stiles, thank you. I haven't had something like that since the fire.”

Stiles smiled sadly at the comment, “Well I’m glad I could do something special for you. After all we are wolf-married, I’d be a sucky mate if I didn’t do something nice for you every once in a while.”

Derek grasped his chin softly and pulled him into a kiss, they kissed languidly until Derek felt someone kick his leg. He turned to see Cora staring at him with a playfully disgusted face, “Ew, can you two please be gross somewhere else.”

“Yeah,” Lydia piped up from the corner, “I thought we talked about no kissing in front of the children.”

Derek glared at them for their ridiculousness. He felt Stiles breath against his ear, “Hey Derek, remember that special something I was talking about this morning?”

Derek eyebrows furrowed as he turned to face his mate, “Yes?”

Stiles smirked smugly and winked, “You wanna find out what it is?”

Derek didn’t even dain him with a response, just took him by the hand and whisked him up the stairs. He laughed when he heard several “Ew’s” left in their wake.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt me: @mr-ankles.tumblr.com
> 
> Do not add to GR.


End file.
